In Darkness Silent
by Darkaus
Summary: ... the Ringwraith trilogy is ended. but I have to wonder, once they fade, where do they go? Is a story ever finished with death, or is what is before death, just the prelude... spooky, yes?
1. Default Chapter

The sun never rises, not in the lands of shadow where all that has fallen from the Valar's favor lie in flame. We are broken, torn, wasted... we are lost...

From the heart of the shadows a form stirs, face hidden by the clinging mist. He moves slowly, recognizing the faces. The torn armor and broken arms of war, his once feared crest still burned into their very making. **_"And so at last, all are home."_** He bends, raising one form from the ground, the steel crown falls from the proud head to the floor.

In the silence there is laughter, in the dark there is light, one merely needs to know where to look...

Ji Indur rose, around him lay his brethren, torn, twisted. Would they rise, could they? In this blackness his once feared vision was dim. There was nothing around them... for ever it seemed that all existence had been snuffed into nothing. No sign of life, even Mordor had been alive, this... this was just... _"Nothing..."_

Khamul gazed over their surroundings, a hiss in his breath._ "There is nothing... we were slain, fallen within Mordors own walls... for what..." _his eyes dimmed and shut, _"What were we fighting for... I knew once... I knew..." _Another form stirred, then another, slowly the eight drew together. Eyes once so bright with inner fire, now lifeless, empty.

_"For nothing... all for nothing..."_

_"We failed... failed both of them and now..."_

_"Lost... to dim to see..."_

_"Lost...lost....lost..."_

_ "...Now it is done."_ A bitter laugh choked the easterlings throat, had we not promised to fall together Murazor? And we have done so, twice.

**This is the one you spoke of.** The lord of Mordor knelt before the figure above him, even in nothing, his lord had managed to forge some semblance of time and space. Once more twisting the Valar's work to his own liking. **_"It is, my king. The other will soon be here."_**

** How do you know? They are but tools, where does this confidence in them spring from?** Sauron bowed his head.

"_**I have faith in them my lord, if you will permit it, they will come."**_ The Dark Lord turned, a smile looking more like a grimace crossing his mouth.

**...Then let them come.**


	2. Chapter One The White Dragon Returns

.... ..... ..... .....

Frodo blinked, once, twice, three times. Nope, it was still there! The hobbit moved cautiously around the large creature, some things, it seems, never change. You can take part in the war of the ring and the havoc that follows, but you still feel inclined to be cautious around a dragon. While the creature in question,(to no surprise) showed no disposition to be cautious of him, but instead growled low in its throat and paced in agitation. It reared when it spotted him, screaming out a cry and arching its neck to strike. And for the firs time Frodo pondered something, (if one is attacked by a dragon in the undying lands, what happens?!) "I don't think I really want to know..."

"Well I'll be! Where dear boy did you manage to uproot a dragon?" Bilbo came outside looking positively tickled by the creature's unplanned appearance. Frodo pulled Sting from the scabbard with a mental sigh for the other hobbit, wishing he was as pleased as the other to see this beast. A small exclamation of confusion came from inside the logging, and Gandalf emerged not looking half as gay as his companion. For a moment the wizard froze, a sound without purpose slipping from his lips, he tried again. One word,

"Anantaboga..?"


	3. Chapter 2 It Begins

Alone beside the fire, again, it seems familiar somehow...

Across from the wizard the two hobbits slept, neither aware of the inner turmoil that threatened the one they had always trusted to save the day. Gandalf sighed. "...Is there no other way? Our adventures were over it seemed." A low growl, burning eyes flashed in mirth._ "I weep for you wizard, truly, for how terrible it must be to be wanted, to have adventures... while mine were over before they had even begun." _The dragon eased back and groaned low in its craw, shifting to become more comfortable in the small space. Gandalf only smiled softly, his eyes watching the flames dance in the dragons eyes. "Fear not old friend; you'll have your adventures, It appears the Valar has seen to that."

**A disruption... a twist in the strings of fate... repair it... cast them either into darkness... or pull them to light... they can no longer be both... the time is now...**

**The time to choose...**

Ivory wings spread, to carry them back across the sea... back to a land they knew all to well. Still the hobbits slept, unaware of the muscle and flesh moving bellow them. And the wizard at the dragons crest stood silent. To middle earth we go, and from there only the Valar can guide us...

Morgoth closed his eyes, traced the currents that flowed threw the darkness, and his grimace turned into a strained grin, **"So It Is Begun." **laughter lacking any emotion cracked threw the blackness, shattering into razors as it dispersed amongst the shadows...


	4. Chapter Three Home Again

The ring... _theringtheringtheringtheringtheringtheringtheringtheringtheringtheringtheringtheringthering... ...._ ... "...Myyeee... Prrresssciousssse...." "Mr Frodo!! Look out Mr. Frodo!!" "It is a dark language of the dark lords that few know, and fewer still would utter its accursed words." "Sméagol this! Sméagol that! Allways Sméagol's faultses!!" "Bring out the ring Frodo, hold it up..."** "Ash nazg durbatulûk, ash nazg gimbatul, ash nazg thrakatulûk agh burzum-ishi krimpatul!"** "Thou shalt not Pass!!" "Is it not strange fate that we should suffer so much fear and doubt for so small a thing? So small a thing!"

_"Take it off! Take it off! Fool, take it off! Take off the Ring!!"_

   "I have!! I bear it no moaaaaaaaaa!!!" The ground plunged away as if with a mind of its own, and down! Down and down! "Turn!! Turn are you deaf?! We've lost him!! Turn and down!!" A scream shattered the night as the great beast plummeted down toward the sea, flames shot to illuminate the sky in the darkness. Frodo wasn't sure if part of that terrible sound came from dragon or himself! Tumbling over and over and over again!! A great claw snagged him, closing around him like a cage as the dragon rose up again.

"Frodo!! Dear boy are you there?! Are you all right!" the trembling shook him to the core, but despite it he managed a weak, "...I'm here!"

Gandalf sighed, holding onto Bilbo to keep him from falling as well. "We are not on the ground Frodo, but in the air. You met our dragon companion much earlier today. It seems he has come to lead us on another adventure." The shaking hobbit laughed, "Oh lords Gandalf no! Wasn't two adventures enough?!" The wizard smiled, "I do love how everyone seems to think I arrange these things." A rumbling huff from the dragon below them drew them back to Frodo's position. _"I will only hold him in my claw so long... then I will drop him. He is tickling my toes."_ The white wizard turned a little whiter. "Do not release him! Frodo, hold on a moment."

Placing Bilbo on the widest part of the dragons back Gandalf moved swiftly to the dragons shoulder. Frodo looked up at him shakily, clinging to the dragon's claw as he leaned out. "Can you reach out and take my hand Frodo?" The hobbit closed his eyes for a moment, gathering his courage, then stretched his hand out as far as he could... and didn't even brush Gandalf's fingers. "No, his legs too long!" Gandalf shook his head, "Anantaboga! Lift your foot higher!" The massive head turned and regarded him coolly _"It doesn't go any higher."_

An hour later a grumpy dragon, a surly wizard an exhausted ring bearer and a jolly Baggins came into sight of shore, gulls cries carried over the wind to tickle their ears, and the crash of the waves calmed troubled minds.

    ": And here we are again... to take the paths we took before..:" A splash of spray brushed closed eyelids, and the ring bearer smiled. His eyes opened on the fast approaching shore. ":So once more, I come home..."

"The greatest adventure... a task hard to take, The core of ones spirit, such passions... can break.                                                          The road lies before you, you stand in the door...To follow the footsteps you've taken before!"

"The greatest adventure is there if you're bold...The task has been given, the time has  been told.                                                      To measure your meaning... will cause but delay!The future is calling! The day is today!"

"A man who's a hero! As histories conceived!  May be just a man, with a friend who believed!

You strode into sunsets!

Your courage retained!

Remember but this, In the end you remained!"

"... The greatest adventure... is what lies ahead...Though many have fallen, and many lie dead...                                                     The chances and changes, which you now can make...Within lives a promise, you cannot forsake.

.... The greatest adventure, and home... lie ahead."

The Hobbit: The greatest adventure. (With some changed lyrics!)


	5. Chapter 4 Night tears Fall

Bellow passed the fields, long grasses rolling gently in the winds. Bilbo sighed, watching with content eyes as the scenery moved below them. "Really is rather pleasant to fly dragon back, eh Gandalf? Saves one the soreness of eagle feet on tender arms!" The wizard merely nodded, his mind elsewhere. They traveled quietly for a time.

"Frodo, Bilbo... I must say this now, we are taking a great risk. I know not what lies beyond here, nor what challenges we may face..." Frodo smiled softly, "Gandalf... may we land?" The wizard turned to regard him curiously. "Land? Whatever for? Our destination is still a ways off." The wizard reached over and grabbed a hold of the dragon's sharp hair to steady himself. "I... I think, since we are here, that perhaps we should... what I mean is, they would probably want us to... I want to say hello to Sam, and Merry and Pippin, I want to see our friends."

Gandalf was silent, then smiled, "Frodo... if we go to them, they will ask of our quest. I have no wish to bring more into our company, and if they discover what we are about I fear we may have no choice but to let them come."

"Out of curiosity, where are we bound Gandalf? We fly away from the Shire, I see that much, and should we hold our course I do believe we will pass over Isengard soon!" Gandalf sighed. "I know not where we fly, only that we will certainly know when we arrive at our destination." The dragon gave a mighty flap and the ground bellow fell further away bellow them.

....                        ....                                  ....                         ....

_The dark... has it ever been this dark... no, there was always light before. But now, now there is nothing... My Lord... I wish... I wish to go, home... I want... I want the horizon, and the waves... across the sea... the gulls calls. And the ships... to carry me home..._

A strange wetness on chilled cheeks, a wet hiss... _The dark, it shreds my very being... I want the sea... and my horizon, Numenor, my home... _Wearily Murazor rose, reaching threw the darkness for another, and finding none. The Witch king bowed his head. _So we are fallen at last, why do I weep? Is there enough of me left to weep? Are they safe, my fellow fallen? Do they now grieve, and can they still see... see their homes..? Ah, we gave all... And all, for nothing!_ A cry filled the air, not the call of his kind, but a strange screaming sob, a mournful wail so full of pain and sorrow, and loss...

Once more the fallen king lay upon the ground, deep eyes, empty of fire, slowly leaked dark tears... for he understood, the darkness tore away all the folly, all the lies... Now he could see, that he had left behind his whole life, his soul, his future for, for a single ring... A harsh sob, O_h the joy of the Nazgul that cannot regret! And help me, someone help me that now I can! I felt sorrow, but to this that was nothing! Khamul, Khamul forgive me... if you can... if any of thee can... Yet can I ask that? When I cannot... I cannot forgive myself._

...The Nazgul lay still. Every now and than a whimper, a hushed sob, a grieved moan would arise. The dark tore threw them like the lashes of a Balrog, stinging as bitterness dripped into the wounds. No one would see the tears they shed, nor hear their cries. And all screamed in a mix of pain and rage as the others faded into the shadows, as the darkness tried to swallow them whole, snapping like a twig the bond that had bound them together for ages. From a distance Sauron watched silent, Morgoth laughing not far behind him. He sighed, disappointed in their weakness, and let the darkness take them. Save one, the one that lay at his feet.

My witch king... even your loyalty breaks now... As your brethrens weakness disgraces me before the one I serve. Why do you weep, what are these tears? You are in my shadow, why do you fear?

**They are weak creatures. Useless, as I told you. The others did not seek you as you claimed they would; now even your pet betrays you.** Sauron bowed his head. Morgoth chuckled, turned away. **Keep that one with you, his memories are still strong. **The dark titan bent and lifted the wraith by the throat, watching the others eyes. **Yesss...his mind is at least strong, come my liegeman, enjoy this while it lasts, for soon the light in his eyes will die, and this will be the last time you will see the ocean.** Sauron moved over, looking threw his servants eyes. _"Why can he still see the sea... it is in his eyes..."_ Morgoth looked down upon him, **Is he not numorean my fool? It is as with elves, when their spirits start to die, you will always see the waters in their eyes.**

_"My lord... you said, that the Valar has sent others to us? So when they arrive, we can use their presence to..."_

**There will be little time. Only one of us will be able to escape, and my liegeman,**

**That one will not be you.**


	6. Chapter Five Catching up with Old Friend...

Sam blinked, once twice, three times. oy... I've been reading too much of "There and Back Again", now even I'm seeing dragons!He shook his head, chuckled, and turned to go back inside his comfortable hobbit hole. Valar knows he and his wife would laugh over this sighting for a time! Not last week he had believed he'd seen Gandalf! And now the dragon of the White Tree! ...which seemed to be drawing other people's attention... which in turn meant it wasn't a figment of his mind... which then would mean... "Ohhhhhddeeaaar... this I 'magin cannot be good..." The creature seemed to be flying in circles, as if in an argument with itself. It finally reared and screamed,_ If thou cannot decide where to stop and where to go, then be gone!! I will drop the lot of you!! _And a much fainter voice cried out a reply. The beast pulled in its wings and dived for the ground. A mile above it suddenly spread its wings and landed, (as daintily as you please), right in the center of his garden!

It was then that Samwise did something most hobbits would consider very foolish. ...But then again, after such adventures, Can we truly say Sam was like most hobbits?

"Get yourself from there!! You foolish thing! I don't care if you be a dragon; you're standing in my sasquash!!" For a moment he thought the beast was laughing at him, but the voice was to much lighter, it sounded... it sounded like... "...Mr. Frodo?" He couldn't help it, couldn't stop the hope that rose in him, or the tears that started to flow when a familiar form slid onto the ground, couldn't stop his feet from moving, his arms from reaching any more than he could stop his exclamation "Frodo!" as the two of them crashed to the ground, crying, laughing...

Gandalf sighed, this would complicate things... he knew it, but perhaps... perhaps a small complication wouldn't matter. The dragon bellow him huffed. Bilbo chuckled slightly and patted the wizard on the back. "Ah well old friend, its good to see, and it's only a small delay..."

...It was of course then that Merry and Pippin appeared.

-

Aragorn looked up, over his shoulder, around the room, "...humph." He sighed and reclined back into the chair. There were day he wondered if this duty of his made him at least a tiny bit paranoid. He sighed, Legolas was traveling abroad with Gimli still, as they had been for many fortnights. Also he knew where the hobbits dwelled, Merry and Pippin had also taken a liking to traveling, but were now visiting the shire to congratulate Sam on being elected mayor, (yet again.) So for now he was alone. Arwen smiled at him, "You are humphing again, and you do that so often now." He shook his head and smiled. "Were you not a moment ago ensuring our son didn't destroy the kingdom?" She laughed. "Yes, but it seems he has now taken more interest in destroying Faramir, Eowyn and their children than your kingdom." Aragorn stifled a laugh, "...Poor Faramir, as if the man is not strung tightly enough!"

"I cannot take it anymore my Leigh! Off with you!! Off I say! Augh! Help! Aragorn, Arwen!!" The boy laughed as the helpless steward collapsed in despair, and Aragorn practically roared with mirth as he watched the mischievous boys mother take pity on his steward and retrieve him. "Oh, come now Faramir! Surely he is no worse than yours?" The horrified look that Faramir dealt him doubled him over again in gasping laughs. "Oh I assure you! There is a great difference between a future steward and a future king! For example, I can handle a future steward! But this child!!" Arwen shook her head, and followed the boy as he ran back outside to wreak more havoc than ought to be humanly possible.

"You may have a point there... but I think not, he is not so hard to handle if one goes about it properly." "Faramir scoffed, "thus says the only one who can control him! You have no right to speak of it!" The steward seemed to relax, and moved beside Aragorn to sit down. "The hobbits have gone to the shire?" Aragorn nodded, "Yes, and Legolas and Gimli are yet to show themselves, it is just us my friend." Faramir sighed. "I may regret saying this, but I feel the yearning for... for I do not know what, for something, something that is not here." Aragorn smiled. "I fear I know that feeling well, though I don't share it with you now, for I rid my system of that years ago. You have not yet strayed throughout your life far from here, have you Faramir?" The steward shook his head, "Nay, I have not."

Aragorn smiled, "it is natural for one to wish to wander in their lives at least for a time. That is all my friend, you are merely in need of a change of scenery." The steward regarded him a moment, "You believe so?" Aragorn nodded. "Take a time of leave, travel, visit other places and then return. You will be the better for it."

-

"Admit it Elf, we've taken a wrong turn, and the fault is yours!" Legolas pretended he had lost his hearing as well as his sense of direction. This path was not the right one, this he knew. It could lead anywhere, this he also knew. Where had they gone astray? That was what he didn't know. "You could be more help instead of simply grunting to me, do you know these woods?" The dwarf ruffled his beard for a moment, and then regarded the trees about them intently. "...Nay, I know not there woods, woods are not the place for a dwarf!" The Elven prince sighed, "I doubt not that if I had let you have your way, we would be making this entire journey through caves."

"And if we had done that, as was sensible. We Wouldn't Be Lost!" High above them an eagle screamed, and Legolas's brow furrowed in confusion. "We have not strayed so far... so far that we would be near the misty mountains? I think not, and yet... this place has that feeling..." Gimli looked around them in some puzzlement, but quickly dismissed it. "Nay, you cannot be right. We are nowhere near that area, or at least, we ought not be. But if we are, we shall know soon enough, mountains are a rather hard landmark to miss." Legolas groaned, "And should we be, I fear I know how the rest of our journey will be traveled!" Gimli grinned a very dwarven grin. "...Through caves, perhaps?"


	7. Chapter 6 A crack in the Void

A crack like lightning, and a feeling as if his backbone was being pulled threw his skull, the others screams....

"What by the dark lords is this thin?! By the Vala above!! Mayhaps he fell from the tower?"

"I don't know fellow, I don't know! Is it dead?!"

"Someone call the guard! There's been an accident!"

"Turn them turn them! Don't let the children see!"

The sounds, so many, so close, and light!! Blinding light!! As if to make it so the darkness had never been!! Ji Indur moaned under his breath, light yes, and a very hard ground beneath him. Hissing as his joints popped with the effort to raise himself, he glared balefully at those around him. Several drew back with cries of shock, but then to his ultimate surprise moved forward and tried to lift him!!

"Lord knows how you're alive!"

"A miracle! Surely a miracle!"

"From a fall that high!! You may as well have jumped all the way from the white tree!"

"Poor old fellow! Can you stand? Do you hear me?"

_What is this?!!!_ Indur drew away stunned, hissing at them from low in the back of his craw. The sound seemed to strike a cord in the wiser of them, several drew back, confused and trying to place the sound. Others who knew it all to well paled like the snow and pulled others away. "The king!! And the guard!! Send for the king!!" Indur drew further from the group until a building met his back, reached for his blade... where one a sword of well forged steel had lain, now were only crumpled grains as a fine powder. His hands, he noted, were also bare, as were his feet. In fact, all metal he had worn was no more than dust shifting threw the thick black cloaks he wore. And even they were not untouched!! The black having been faded to the lightest shades of grey!!

... After existing so long... it was very awkward to feel so naked... The Nazgul lowered his head in an almost shamefaced manner, only to be thrown from his feet when a guard grabbed him and forced him to the ground. He did the only thing he could do, he reared back his head and...

Aragorn fell loudly from the throne, his breaths quick and panicky as the wail of the Nazgul rose over the city. The guards in the room, to frozen in disbelief and fear to even notice his fall had run to the many windows. "...It cannot be... they were slain in Mordor!!"

Arwen and Eowyn froze, for only a moment. Then like lightning grabbed their crying children and pulled them into the safety of the great hall, Faramir guarding their backs with sword drawn. "Faramir! Hurry! Don't waist time with that! Hurry!" The steward sheathed his sword and vanished threw the great doors just as they were slammed shut, only to slam them open again when he heard a horse cantering down the coble stones. "Aragorn!! Don't be a fool Aragorn!!" The beast reared up for a moment as the king turned and shot Faramir one fiery glance that said plainly there would be no staying of his hand, and spurred the horse into a gallop.

Faramir stood stunned for but a moment, then turned and quickly told the others to stay put, Eowyn looked at Arwen, who had hard lines about her eyes. The queen swiftly turned and told the servants to guard the children, soothing them as best she could before both women ran to get their own horses. Faramir followed looking angrier than he could recall being at any turn of events! And to think that his king had told him just moments ago to get away from it all!

Three more mounts and riders spurred down into the city bellow.

... - - ...

Gandalf tensed, feeling a disturbance, "Frodo! We must be off! Things are progressing more quickly than expected!" The ring bearer turned from his friends sadly, only to blink when Merry and Pippin ran ahead and pulled their way up onto the great beasts back. Gandalf gave Frodo the (I told you so) look. Samwise ran outside and pulled himself up as well. "If there's something going on, than we're coming with Mr. Frodo!" Bilbo merely chuckled.

... - - ...

Gimli turned at the Elf's silence, watching Legolas stare transfixed at the horizon. "Um... Elf? What do you think you're doing?" Legolas blinked a few times, turned to him and said in a hushed voice. "...We need to go to Gondor, as quickly as we can. Something's begun..."

Deep in the darkness... the others still cried out... and above them the Dark lords stood, and waited.


	8. Chapter Seven Tormented Spirit

Aragorn drew reign before the scene and froze in confusion. The crowd that had parted to let him threw regrouped before Faramir or the others could reach him. There, against the wall, stood Ji Indur. Part of The king would now always recognize the Nazgul, but how changed! The face once gaunt and full of icy fury was fuller, and the lines that marred it were not those of hard time but the gentle lines of age. The face, even in its obvious later years, had a regal bearing to it. Seemingly young despite its ancientness, and handsome; despite its slight giving's from the wears of time. Softly whitening hair lay to the creature's shoulders, and a slight stubble lay upon both cheeks and chin. But those eyes…

Laser blue, like the first lights on the horizon, eyes made to gaze over vast expanses of ocean water, the eyes of a Numorean King. This wraith… seems of wraith form no more… "Indur, I know thou, as I would know any who I've fought before. You fell in Mordor. Slain by one of the fellowship, I saw it!" The wraith raised his head, his eyes clouded for a moment, as if trying to see through murky water. "Answer me wraith!! Why are you not slain?!" Still there was no reply from the fallen king. Aragorn drew his sword, (no more stalling then! Too many people are here! This creature is too dangerous to allow it to roam!) The horse leapt forward onto the foe, spittle flying and eyes wild. And the great blain was drawn and swung in an arch even as Arwen shrieked a warning…

…. …. …. ….

The Pelennor fields passed below in a rush of waving grasses, the wind whipping sharply over the dragons back and buffeting its many passengers. Merry and Pippin held tight beside Samwise, Frodo, and Baggins. Gandalf stood at the Crest, urging silently for haste, (something is happening… we must hurry, I fear the very fabric we are weaving is coming undone…) Minas Tirith came into view, and the dragon gave a great bellow as it swept low over the city, sending people scurrying into their homes. Golden eyes glowed,seeking the same disturbance the wizard sought. And there!! A horse leaping forward and a blade descending…

A clang of metal on stone, and silence… the great beast landed unnoticed by all but the horses, who shrieked at the great predators appearance. Even the wind was still… Indur stood untouched, the blade imbedded in the wall behind him, showing the path it had followed by a jagged line in the wood. Aragorn gaped in silence; the steel trembled for a moment in his hand before he raised it to swing again. "Aragorn no!" Arwen grabbed his hand, pulling it to her chest, so that he dropped the blade to avoid hurting her. "This cannot be touched by steel! It is pointless Aragorn! We will not dispatch him that way!"

"Arwen, release my hand, and return to the summit."

"Listen to me Aragorn! You cannot harm a Nwalmaer with steel!"

"A Nwalmaer? Tormented? Arwen, release my…"

Something held the kings gaze, bright eyes drawing his attention like a light in a cave, compelling him to look back. Aragorn fell silent, his hand going slack as well as his mouth, his eyes wide. "Ga… Gandalf… How can this be…" Faramir and Eowyn sat as statues upon their mounts, "Are we on the ground yet...?"

"I feel rather sick…"

"Why? I thought you two had flown before?"

"Indeed Sir, flown we have, and then been dropped into a river from at least a mile up."

"And the water tasted terrible! Mind you we didn't complain!"

"No, of course not! We were to busy swimming for our lives to complain!"

"What are you two talking about?!"

"Ah, you weren't there, were you Frodo? Never mind :)!"

"Ignore them Mr. Frodo, I think they're making that up."

"We are not! You weren't there either so you can't talk :(!"

Gandalf sighed and turned back to the Dragon, "You can slide them of Anantaboga." The beast gave a mighty huff, and sank onto its side. With startled "Whoa!!!" The five hobbits slid to the ground. Bilbo wiped his eyes and laughed, "That was superb! Had I known dragons gave such rides I would have tried to reason with Smaug!" Aragorn blinked again, "Frodo, and Bilbo Baggins, You all went across the sea! And if this is the Dragon that I was told of, that beast was slain by Indur at the Black gate! What are you all doing here! …not that I am not glad to see you, yet…" Gandalf had moved past him, the eyes that had smiled at Aragorn were darker as they took in the sight of the Nazgul.

"Ji Indur, it has been a while, hasn't it." The wraith eyed him silently, no more than a soft hiss coming from between thin lips.

"Aragorn, I assure you all will be explained, and soon. However, if my companions and I could first rest from our journey, and perhaps get some food," A low growl sounded and all turned stunned, even the dragon, to regard the hobbits with their sheepish grins and gurgling stomachs. "…Yesss… as I was saying," Aragorn looked back toward Indur, "What is to be done with him?" Gandalf sighed. "That to will be explained, for now, it would be wisest to take him with us, for we will have need of him soon."

Frodo watched the scene in something akin to amusement as Gandalf tried to talk Aragorn into allowing the Wraith in his home; he didn't blame him for a moment. (Aragorn has had more than his fair share of Nazgul problems, lets see if Gandalf can talk the "wings" off of this "butterfly".)

…. …. …. ….

Faramir watched in silence as Aragorn was brought under hand, the wizard weaving seemingly without knowing it a spell of calm over the kings raging mind. Faramir smiled, (a spell it must be surely, for Aragorn has no tolerance toward such creatures now.) The smile turned into a grim line. (No, no tolerance at all, many times I have seen the ravages in his face from sleepless nights he has spent filled with waking nightmares of them… he should not have to bear the presence of one again…)

Gandalf smiled, "It is decided then, come friends, the night is still a ways off, and I know for a fact Bilbo and Frodo will want to visit with you all." Frodo nodded, his eyes fixed on the wraith still trapped in the corner. "Anantaboga, your hoard is as you left it I'm sure, you should rest my friend." The dragon hissed deep in his craw and sprang into the air, vanishing into the utmost ring of Minas Tirith's mighty walls. Cautiously, slowly, Frodo moved towards the fallen king. His companions paid no heed, to intent upon listening to Gandalf as the King of Gondor tried to find a way around bringing the Nazgul to the summit. "We have children there Gandalf, I do not want my son near this… this…" Gandalf smiled softly, "This, what? Your majesty, you feel no true hate here, he is no threat to anyone now,"

Aragorn shook his head in refusal, "I know what I feel, what I have felt since the last time I set eyes upon this one and his brethren." Gandalf nodded, "And was what you felt hate, Aragorn? Or something deeper… something more attune to sorrow, and pity? You have seen them threw different eyes, threw the eyes of the fallen. I think… that that is what haunts you my friend, the memory of them threw his eyes." Aragorn said nothing.

"Steady… steady there, I won't hurt you, I won't hurt you…" Frodo advanced slowly, a sense of surprise filling him. There was no fear in his heart, none of the blind terror that he had felt before… The wraith was not impressed, Indur hissed low in his throat, the sound like an arctic winter, blue eyes flashing and hands clenching from the desire to pull free a blade that was no longer there. _Keep your distance… I know your face… ring bearer… I have not forgotten… I will never forget… Nor Forgive!! _Frodo drew back, burned by the hate in those deep bright eyes. "Blame me not, I did not offer you a ring, nor did I then bind you to it, I am not to blame for your fate old king, …you chose your death long ago…" A strangled sound, muffled in the wraiths throat...

"Mr. Frodo! Don't get to close!" Sam pulled hard on his arm, drawing him away. "He's dangerous Mr. Frodo! No matter what Gandalf says!" A harsh laugh, like ice cracking, brittle and sharp, the Ringwraith threw back his head, and the laugh turned into another sound, slowly falling until it became no more than a strangled hiss. Gandalf grew still, listening as it rose and fell. "And so it begins Ji Indur, the start of the end… Come Aragorn, to the summit." The small party followed the reluctant king up the streets, and following as silent as frost behind them, the Ringwraith.

"Why does he follow us?" Aragorn's eyes sought Gandalf's, the wizard smiled, "He Follows Aragorn, because he knows we are his last hope."

(Promise to explain soon!!I feel sorry for Aragorn, really... :( )


	9. Chapter 8 Traitor! Traitor!

The strange procession made its way to the citadel, the empty streets giving them easy passage. Aragorn sat silent on the stallion, his eyes distant, and deep in thought. Gandalf regarded him almost cautiously. He could feel Aragorn mentally and physically pulling away from them, deep into himself... (Odd that I should see this side of him with so little prompting,) He mused, (I have seen him this way before, more oft than I care to recall, but always in the heat of battle, when odds were at their worst.) Gandalf sighed to himself, fingers tightening around his staff. (I failed to see the impact this would have on him… the error in judgment is mine…)

Aragorn shook his head in silence, (Pity for them? no, I hadn't expected Gandalf to understand… after all… the dreams only started after he and the others went across the sea… And so much has changed since then…

I don't pity them… and that's what gnaws at me… rips away at me still… I think back, back to when I looked through his eyes… and I remember flying… most of all I remember flying…)

(Flashback)

A large blade hurled threw the air, missing him by inches. The beast he was on, a fell beast?! Reared and almost threw him. He slipped, barely grabbing hold before being flung to the ground. A hash laugh sounded, another beast swooped bellow him, the rider catching the sword and swooping above him, yet another beast flew between them, its rider shrieking out a taunt as it ducked just out of sight. They were flying, all of them... the nine flew as one... a shudder swept threw him, even as excitement filled him. Flying like this... could they even enjoy such a thing? Another wraith tossed his blade into the air, sharp enough to cut cloud. Khamul, that's who that is...  
To his shock he felt the beast fly into the blades path, as if steered by... with horror he looked down, his hands held the reigns!! As hard as he pulled away, his hands turned the beast into its path! On hand, his hand, covered in metal, shot into the air and caught the blade, twirling it between his fingers before tossing it back to the other rider. I just... did I just... No! It's a memory! This is what the Witch King did! This is a memory... just a memory... the wraiths cried out, their eyes alight, diving and whirling in the air, in the air... did they feel free? Khamul saluted the toss, taking his place flying behind The Witch King, his eyes... not as simple as just fire, joy; fierce and free was in his eyes, joy... _"...To Minas Tirith... to the war!!"_

(Had I to describe a feeling, any feeling, that one would be my undoing. I flew with the nine those days, fought with them… was victorious and defeated, jubilant and tormented… and I do not pity them, for I fear…

…I fear had I been given the offer they received… that I would not be able to say no. Nay, more than that, would I have done anything but accepted with open arms? These thoughts are my own, I have been tainted by my folly and I know it. Let these fool desires and dreams haunt me till my last breath; they are my burden… I will bear them alone.)

The Guards opened the gates, watching in shock and awe as the wizard passed, and regarding with curiosity the one who walked behind them all, turning uncomfortably away from the glare of his eyes.

"Gandalf, you said you and the others wished to rest and refresh yourselves. I will have a cow pushed down the steps to the dragon, you and the hobbits are as always, welcome at my table." Arwen nodded, "It is good to see you again Mithrandir, even though your presence has come with other less favorable events." Gandalf smiled, "And it is good to see both of you, I trust, Faramir and Eowyn that you fare well?" Faramir still kept his steed between the wraith and his lady, but forced a grin for the Wizards sake. "We fare, everything has prospered since the wars end, we could hardly not." Eowyn nodded, he eyes focused beyond her husbands, locking with Ji Indur's as if to dare him to try anything she didn't approve of.

"And I ask once more, what is to be done with him?" Aragorn's voice held a trace of warning. Gandalf carefully drew near, sensing something amiss Indur whirled on him, but to late. The wraith fell still as the spell wrapped about him, it wavered, bent, threatening to snap… and held. Senseless the fallen king fell to the stones, eyes and ears closed to the world in a sleep deeper than any he had known for years…

_…Where are you Indur…_

_…It is dark… so dark…_

_…return… you cannot leave us…_

_…are we not brethren? Indur…_

_…Indur…_

Gently, the wizard bent and closed the eyes that were quickly frosting over. "He will sleep, for now. Which will give us time to discuss how things have been for all our friends here, I myself am curious for details." Faramir sighed, relieved. "Do not relax quite yet my friend. I have no doubt he will be rather unpleasant in the morning…"

"Well then, best to make the most of the night while we can."

"Yes, and perhaps you will tell us what all this madness is about?"

"Soon my friends, very soon now."

…. …. …. …

The sun had risen, and the present fellowship was gathered in the throne room.

The room was still, save the hisses of the angry wraith slowly regaining awareness. Aragorn sat upon the throne, Faramir in the steward's chair. The hobbits had made themselves properly comfortable, grouping together and watching quietly as Gandalf and Indur circled each other, Gandalf attempting to draw closer, but unable to with the Nazgul dodging his footsteps. The wraith had no intent to allow the wizard to seize the moment again, being subdued once was enough.

"Let it be Gandalf, it seems he was willing enough at first, but isn't very keen on letting you any closer today." The wizard sighed, trying unsuccessfully to back the wraith into a corner, "I do believe you are correct Aragorn. But I must keep trying I fear, his cooperation would be appreciated, but is not entirely necessary." Ji Indur let out a loud, grating hiss, frustrated by the wizard's antics, _(corner me?! Corner the sky scourge?! No wizard, perhaps I should corner you!)_ Another shudder shook him, the spell uneager to release its hold, and the voices… bright eyes clouded in pain…

_Darkness… all is darkness… no light… no light…_

_Khamul… Indur… where are you… where are you…_

_Broken… we are broken… my lord? Where are you?_

_Where are you when we cry… oh lord… do not turn… away…_

…_Indur… you are distant to us… I feel you still… where ever you dwell… stay there… do not… … … …_

… _Murazor… I heard Murazor…_

…_where is he? … Our lord is took him…_

…_Dark… further into the dark…_

_Indur! Khamul! How could you leave us?! Traitors! Traitors!_

"We will get nothing done unless you let me approach you, it would be easiest to hold…" Gandalf fell back, a scream of pain, of such hatred, ripping from the Ringwraith! Instantly the temperature fell, the room nearly froze solid. Guards outside the door colapsed clutching their skulls, crying in wordless agony. Aragorn rose from the throne, his eyes blazing, and angry breaths frosting in the arctic air. Faramir moved to hold him "Enough Indur! ENOUGH!!!" The scream faded as suddenly as it had begun, another sound eased out in its place, low, deep in his throat, a sound shockingly human, even to his ears. A sob of pain, perhaps even fear…

_-izub shakh ukhurk- izish kramp- nar, naan –ukkarnai brus- lat nar …-izgu hiuzil- lat… -izgu kauzan lat!! -izgu kauzan lat!! _…The wraith grew very still, _-izgu kauzan lat…_

Carefully, gently, a hand reached out and touched Indurs shoulder. The wizards face was blank, but his eyes were slightly warmer. "You can help them Indur, you can save them! Are you are willing to fight for yourself, and not your fallen master? If you are willing to let us assist, than we will. We were sent back for this, sent to see if you and your brethren could be taken from the pit, brought into another place." A slight hesitation, the wizard hand wavered, and the Nazgul drew back, swiftly freed from the wizard's eyes. "I will not lie to you, there is no point, you would see the falsehood clinging to any lie I could utter." The wraith continued to retreat, forcing the wizard once more to pursue him. "I know not where you will go should we succeed or what will become of you… I only know this; wherever it is you may go to, it will be better than the place you leave behind."

…_matûrz globûrz…_

Gandalf paused, an amused smile creeping onto his face. "…Is there any particular reason you are using that tongue? I have just realized you were speaking a much softer one earlier to Frodo." The eyes grew cold, and silent. Gandalf winced; Feeling the wraith striking back at him, darker energies clashing against him. _Why should you offer… what need have I… for your allegiance? …I need you not… I will free them… but I do it… alone._

… _I need you not wizard… I fear you not…_

… _yet perhaps… you should still fear me.  
_

Nêbâbîtham Magânanê  
Nêtabdam dâurad  
Nêpâm nêd abârat-aglar  
îdô Nidir nênâkham  
Bârî'n Katharâd

Lyrics from the "Revelations of the Ringwraiths"

_Translations: The Black speech,_

My lord do not forsake me: _-izub shakh ukhurk- izish kramp- nar_

But have you not already?:_ naan –ukkarnai brus- lat nar?_

We followed you… we trusted you…: _-izgu hiuzil- lat… -izgu kauzan lat…_

Foolish Mortal: _matûrz globûrz_

We refused our creator: _Nêbâbîtham Magânanê_  
We went towards darkness: _Nêtabdam dâurad_  
We were handed strength and glory, _Nêpâm nêd abârat-aglar_  
Now Sauron we approach: _îdô Nidir nênâkham_  
Lords of All lands : _Bârî'n Katharâd_

(Will explain everything soon!)


	10. Chapter Nine Khamul's Awakening

"I don't believe it… Elf! Your sense of direction is worse than a blind Orks! How did you manage to get us from the Icebay of Forochel into the Misty Mountains?!" Legolas shot the Dwarf an annoyed look, bet deeper inside a worry was stirring… there was no way, not from where they had been. Perhaps it was no accident that they were here, at least it seemed not. After all, a full day retracing their steps had only succeeded in bringing them deeper into the hills…

"The fault is not mine Gimli… something wills us closer, I feel it…" The dwarf gave a huff. "…Wills us closer he says… smurgafrackashrehmmph…" A twig snapped, instantly the bow and arrow were raised and notched. Gimli raised an eyebrow, "A tad tight-strung are we?" Legolas moved closer to the bush, fingers twitching. Gimli frowned, drawing his ax and following close behind. Rarely was when the elf got serious- and there was no immediate threat. Silent, the two moved into the clearing only to freeze in something akin to shock. A form lay lank, crumpled on the ground, unmoving on its side and shrouded from their view by its light torn robes… Legolas lowered the arrow and moved forward, then froze for a moment; swiftly he whirled backwards, raising the bow back to readiness. "Go no closer Gimli! Something is wrong here!"

"When I said you were tight-strung perhaps I understated, breath Elf! I see no danger here!" Legolas shook his head, "Go no closer! That is no friend of ours, but feels like some of the enemies we have fought before!" Gimli snorted, "no shock there, I can see his face from here. It's just an easterling Elf, and one getting on in his years at that." Legolas moved so that he shared Gimli's view.

…_Indur!! Where is Ji Indur?!_

A pain… sharp and piercing, skewering him as nothing ever had, the pain of being ripped free…

…_Khamul… Indur… where are you… where are you…_

…_They are gone! …faded from us!!_

…_Come back… come back… you cannot leave us here…_

…_The dark… so dark…_

_(My brethren… I hear you… but the pain, oh such a pain…)_ weakly, eyes opened on the surrounding soft turf. Sunlight streamed threw the bows of the trees above him and he gave a hiss at the unwelcome yet blessed brightness. How, how had he escaped from the dark? _(I must think… I am a strategist, I understand how things are done, how they are carried out… I was not the lieutenant of Mordor for my ring! I did nothing to escape, nothing that my fellow wraiths had not done… yet they remain… I feel they remain, and I am free…) _

"Well, you were right, we have seen him before, but lords, shouldn't he be properly dead by now?!" Instantly awareness smacked into him, voices! Enemy voices nearby! He reached, slowly so not to have the action noticed, grasping for the hilt…

Nothing! Where is the blade! An arrow pierced the edge of his robe, and quickly Khamul drew away from it, only to see the cloth pass around the shaft like flowing water._ What sorcery is this then? … Shoot again archer… and it will be the last bow you draw…_

Legolas also regarded the cloth with surprise, but his eyes hid it quickly, another arrow already notched. "Move again Ringwraith, and that will be the last threat you utter." The hands holding the bow wavered, those eyes! The brown was not a brown he had seen before, to bright, to clear! Eyes like that were not something a man was born with, they were warped over time, brightened by overindulgence in the field of Mage magic.

The two glared each other down, Gimli content to stand back and watch this odd display. Slowly, Khamul rose to his feet. Another arrow whizzed threw the air, passing without harm threw the creature's throat. A scream of retaliation rent the air, and Khamul lunged forward with bare hands, tackling the elf and forcing the two of them back to the ground.

_Fool!! I Warned Thou!!_ _golug shadûr!!_ Legolas winced, of all species on middle earth, few were as repulsed by the dark tongue as Elves, the very sound of it sickened him, and that smell, like rotting lilies… oh gods! Panicking Legolas trashed and punched his way free, drawing away from the wraith with terror in his heart. (The Black Breath! How could I have forgotten! I know the dangers of a wraith!! None are fool enough to fight one in such close combat! Yet there he was, breathing on me!!) In the manner of a venomous snake who knows its poison is potent Khamul drew away, eyes flashing with an inner mirth and triumph. Gimli had placed himself between them now, looking a tad lost at how to fight something that his ax couldn't split. "You alright elf? Elf? " Legolas paled quickly, feeling the ice drip into the pit of his stomach, too fast, the poison is moving too fast…

"Gimli! Fly from here! Tell the others of this!" The Dwarf froze, the thought process that had hit his companion now reaching him. "Legolas!" Swiftly he moved to the others side, easing the weakening Elf onto the ground. "Go you dark creature! You foul load of Ork filth! Flee from here fast! Or by the great dwarven kings I'll split you!!" Khamul laughed, a grating shrieking sound that sent shudders down the Dwarfs spine. Suddenly the wraith veered away, falling into a gray heap on the ground. Pained hissing came from the twitching form, and Gimli seized the opportunity and raised his ax high…

…_Khamul… where are you…_

…_The light is gone… the night has come…_

**_Bring them to us my liegeman, bring to us the door!_**

Translation:

_golug shadûr_: Deaf Elf


	11. Chapter 10 To fear the Future & Recal th...

Indur sat alone, his gaze sweeping almost gently over the city bellow him_.( I had this once, a small world of my own… smaller by far than the impressive realms of my brethren. Just a small world, peaceful, now and again visited by other kings from other lands…my brethren who had other things than Sauron's will as their concern… Back in a time… when the fate of others was my concern…)_ The wraith smiled softly, _(it was folly, all of it, I took three queens in my mortal time, each unable to bear me an heir without it costing them their lives, such wasted lives… my line were fated to die with me._

_Murazor I did not meet face to face until both he and I were ensnared. Nor did I know Khamul, or Dwar. Ren I had seen in brief passing, but we had never spoken. I was close with Uvatha… good man Uvatha, loved horses. And none could best him when it came to his horsemanship, let there be no doubt of that! I wouldn't dare even mount with him watching! Least I get on my beast backwards!) _The lights started to extinguish one by one in the windows of Minas Tirith, a breeze swept up the seven rings of the city to trail threw his cloak. The silence was pleasant enough, and the night was warm. Had there been the slight smell of salt in the air it would have been bliss.

(_Ah… Murazor never knew how well off he was, to have his kingdom right on the sea line. I would never have traded; mine was pleasant enough, a tad too mountainous for most people's tastes. Sometimes, even too much so for mine, probably the elf blood in me… but all Numoreans have some in them, was that not what set us apart?) _A blossom drifted on the wind, settling into his tangled mane, and the last light in the city faded into blackness.

… …

…_Light filters threw the trees… and the breeze blows threw the glen…_

_The streams all flash with silver… from the little fish within…_

_A smell so clean to clear my head… below my skies so bright…_

_A sun with rays all golden spun… and perfumed hours of night…_

_I love this land I call my own… I love each field and glen,_

_Each piece of bark from every trunk, the moss within each den…_

_The towering stalks of grain we've grown, the labor of our men,_

_And every mother's face, to see her children home again…_

_And every mother's face, to see her children home…again…_

The last whispered note faded into the night… lost to middle earth as it had been since the fall of the ring lords lands. Unheard by all but the one who had sung it, and marked in passage only by tears… tears that trailed down the forgotten face in its wake.

… … … …

Two horses galloped over the fields toward the great city as dawn broke and the first lights touched the citadel. Gimli spurred the his horse harder, behind him the prince of Mirkwood lay still, the only sign he lived the soft breaths that came from between slightly parted lips. Behind them lead by a lead reign tied to the first beasts saddle, Legolas's horse carried another form. This one also unmoving, and tied to the horses back with the shredded remnants of a travel cloak. The dwarf paid no head to the impossible distance he had covered in one day, having given up completely at trying to make sense of anything by this point. (Ringwraiths coming back from the dead, getting impossibly lost in the Misty Mountains, getting from being impossibly lost in the Misty Mountains to Minas Tirith in a meager day, oh yes, the Valar's having fun with us!)

The gates opened, sleepy guards letting the rider and other enter into the first ring. Most recognized the dwarf, and none seemed eager to start a conflict at this hour of the morning. Up and up and up… and higher still, the beasts wheezing from the long trek and now the unending upward spiral, finally stopping before the white tree with shaking legs. And sprawled against the trees trunk, another figure in gray regarded the dwarf with curiosity. He watched Gimli _(…I know that face… that is the one, the loud one that my fellbeast had flown with… I know that dwarf…)_ unload his horse first, lowering the figure to the ground before running up and raising hell upon the front door. Swiftly a guard answered and the prone form was carried inside. Gimli remained by the horses, seemingly unsure of what to do with the other… (_Khamul!!)_

Indur leapt to his feet, drawing a blade from his sheath. The Dwarf stared at him for a moment, and an expression of disbelief swept his features. "Oh by the…" the dwarf didn't finish, Indur had already sprung and forced the smaller warrior to flee. For a moment Indur stood impassive, than sheathed the blade and moved beside his companion, ripping free the tethers that held him to the beasts back. The horse started, not liking the Ringwraiths smell, and attempted to rear before Indur grabbed it by the head and touched its will with his own._ Be still!! Hold under my hand!! _The animal's eyes rolled in fear, but held still. Indur bent, panting from the strain. _(Our power is depleted so easily now… I never knew… so much of our strength was our rings…)_

Freed, the other fell heavily to the ground, letting out a low hiss as he hit. His eyes opened, weakly meeting Indur's, then he gave a shudder from deep within and grew still, his eyes rolling back and closing._ (So he too learned the hard way… I felt the Black Breath on the elf; you impulsive fool… you were always an impulsive fool…) _a feeling of worry settled into his stomach, _(there are only two of us now… if what the white wizard says is true, than we are our fellow brethrens only hope… you fool… risking everything…) _There came a great clatter from the door, several guards rushed out followed by the king, dwarf and steward. Ji Indur shrieked a fell cry, warning the mortals to come no closer. They did not heed, several moving between himself and Khamul allowing others to attempt to pull him away. Laser blue flashed fiery red, a frost coated the forms of all those near, the blade came free, cold steel making a crackling sound as it hit the air.

Instantly another blade met his, than another! Both king and steward met his gaze with fierce intensity in their faces; a battle hunger had already taken over Aragorn's mind, readying him to spill blood. Faramir yelled over the arctic wind that had risen about them for surrender, and the orbs of the wraith burned black. A sudden crackle of power split the wind, the freeze dispersing as swiftly as it had come about. Gandalf lowered his staff, content that he had gained all attention. "If you would all cease what you are doing! Thank you! Aragorn, Faramir, back away and let him calm himself, and Gimli, stop trying to slay Khamul! The dwarf looked up sullenly, his beard bristling. Indur looked from the exasperated wizard, to the bristling dwarf, to the exasperated wizard, back again…

_(I am surrounded by fools and madmen…)_ a dark chuckle grew in the back of his throat before he could suppress it, and taking advantage of the situation he moved over, threw Khamul's limp form over his shoulder, turned, and headed out of the city and up into the mountain it rested upon. Instantly Aragorn moved to set after him but Faramir held him still. "Peace Aragorn! We must tend to Legolas first, and worry about the Wraiths after!" Aragorn whirled on him, pulling his hand free and moving off after the grey forms. "Aragorn!" The king grew still, for the wizards voice held a tone that said he would not be ignored. "Peace, Faramir is right, we must think of Legolas, though I am pleased to say the Black breath seems to be loosing its hold on him. Let them go Aragorn, best to let them work things back into order between themselves before we make another move."

Aragorn sheathed his blade and strode past Gandalf into the hall without so much as a glance. Faramir sighed, his own blade vanishing into its scabbard. "Forgive him Gandalf… he has his family and his people at heart." The wizard nodded, his eyes thoughtful. "Perhaps… ignore me Faramir, but to these eyes he seems a man scorned from a long held desire… I fear the Witch King did more damage than even he may realize…"

… …. …. ….

From one of the upper windows Eldarion watched all this with excited eyes, "Now's my chance! I'll finally get to be a good soldier!" Swiftly and silently the young heir to the throne of Gondor threw on his good breaches and tunic and placed his small dagger on his belt. Then vanished down the stairs, threw the great kitchen, and out into the night…


	12. Chapter Eleven Skirmish above the city

It seemed night had swept over the land; the sun in the very act of rising was struck down in darkness. Gandalf froze, watching the shadows fuse together. (This is no Nazgul sorcery… this is something far darker… gaining strength…) Faramir to stopped in his tracks, "Gandalf… what sorcery is this?!" The wizard shuddered, a feeling of dread invading his thoughts, (the gate to the shadow has begun to open, and this is a warning that must not be ignored!) "Faramir, Frodo, Bilbo and I must leave soon, time is of the essence now, and I fear we have already overstayed our welcome." The steward nodded with a cold stiffness to his jaw, his eyes worried. "I will not let you go alone; Aragorn told me not long ago that I was in need of traveling."

Gandalf shook his head, "We need no more assistance! I fear the other hobbits may already trail us despite my efforts to dissuade them! Faramir, you understand not what we face! No, you cannot even comprehend it... we travel to the dark roads that even the nine would not willingly ride, and from there it is all dark and dark and midnight forever… we go to the cell of the dark lords master, do you understand?! We fly for Morgoth's realm! I cannot allow any more involved in this than I must!" The steward seemed shaken, his hand clenching reflexively at his side.

"I… I will still ride with you, for the hobbits will follow, and someone must keep them safe. And I fear if you are not swift and wise in your wording than we will also have a Dwarf and an Elf added to our party." Gandalf sighed, "You are resolved to this?" Faramir nodded. "I will follow where you go whether you will it or nil it, of that much you can be sure." The wizard turned and sat beside the great tree, his eyes clouded. "And you realize steward, that I can give you no safe passage? That you will probably never gaze upon this city and those who dwell here again? Your wife, your children, all will probably be forfeit." Faramir said nothing, only stood still and watched darkness sweep over the land.

…. …. …. ….

Indur relaxed his hold, allowing Khamul to seek his own footing. _…You realize you cannot try that again, it will prove too much for you… _The esterling turned away, his eyes watching the light fade, _And now it seems my mind has gone, a moment ago I saw dawn… _Indur nodded, _As did I…the dark has come for us even here…_

Khamul laughed, _We will not escape it… this is our fate Indur, here is our reward for our many lifetimes of service, of loyalty, of trust… and I dare say, it was well earned._ The other stood silent, his eyes sweeping the city again, listening as the wind brought the sound of panicked people over the ledges. _This is not our fate anymore; it is now theirs as well… _The face turned to regard his fellow wraith. _…Khamul… what was it all for? I knew once… but I've forgotten… _Khamul smiled …What_ was it for? Oh don't play Indur, don't be a fool, you know as well as I what it was All For! …For life! It was all for life…to live a little longer, for men live only so long…_

_Men live only so long… and I, I was afraid to die… (I remember a time…a time when I was a man, a man of flesh and blood; I had hopes, goals, dreams… I had a land of my own, not a kingdom I looked over for my lord's convenience. I had… I was… once…_

…_A king of men…_

_But that was not enough, was it? I had to be greater than that, never content, always eyeing what others had, and even Murazor's lands were not safe from my hungry eyes…) _Khamul bowed his head, his hood falling to cover his face. Ji Indur reached out, almost timidly, and lay his hand on his brethrens shoulder. Never had he extended a sign of comfort, always Indur had been the quiet one, the dark one in the shadows, distant even among his own. Sauron had approved, watching as the separation had caused the Scourge of the skies to master different skills then the other wraiths. Eventually even going so far as to make Indur the champion of Mordor instead of The Witch King, preferring to let the lord of the Nazgul handle the land of Angmar and raise an army for him there. Khamul had always in his heart held this against the other, scorning the attention that their lord invested in him.

If Murazor had minded he showed no sign, he had no will at that point other than his lords. If the nine had been the Lidless Eyes fingers, than The Witch King had been the thumb, his entire being dedicated to the largest and smallest of tasks, to the very whims of their lord…

No, The Witch King had held no grudge, nor it seemed had many of the others, but it had always set the black esterlings teeth on edge to see Ji Indur become a symbol of their lords might. He pulled away, _Touch me not… I wish nothing from you; do not lay hand on me… I will follow the wizard if he leads to our brethrens freedom. But I have no love for you Indur… and were you there still I would not bring you out, not even if Murazor asked it of me. I would leave you to suffer, the way our lord left us to suffer…_Indur removed his hand, his eyes cold. _(I should have expected this from Khamul…we no longer share the link the one ring held us to threw our own…I feared that without that link… it matters not now.) …If that is your wish._

A crumbling of rock from above drew both Nazgul's attention; a small face peered down at them in fear, wide eyes revealing his surprise. With something akin to a cry he flung himself away, the small hand dropping an elaborate Elvin dagger at their feet. Khamul's eyes flashed red, few blades could do them harm, but Elvin steel had proved perilous in the past. To be tied up by a dwarf, then stalked by a child! He leapt up upon the stone and grabbed for the child's tunic. _(I have not been insulted this way before! And never will I be again!) _A fell shriek echoed off the rocks, magnifying the sound so that the city below trembled in fear.

Indur's eyes were alight, burning from blue to blood as he echoed the others cry. The sword he drew, and the ground about them crackled and frosted. The blade sang in the air as he advanced on the child who lay curled into a ball to hide from the echoing shrieks and burning eyes. Soft cries escaped tightly closed lips; the small body shaking in terror, Ji Indur raised the blade high… A bellow more like a roar echoed off the mountain, and the king of Gondor leapt upon the wraith with blade drawn. Khamul drew back with a hiss and Indur collapsed under Aragorn's weight as the two tumbled from the platform and onto the crumbling slabs of rock below.

"Fa…No! Father!!" Eldarion gazed over the edge, but the blackness had swallowed the struggling figures from sight. Khamul did not move, something akin to blind panic had gripped him and frozen him like a stag looking into a wolfs eyes. Slowly, the rigidness left his limbs, and he too moved and looked over the edge.


	13. Chapter 12 In Desperate Times

Blackness, Aragorn pulled himself to his feet, not far of Indur was struggling to regain his footing; the only noise either could hear was the sound of raindrops as they began to fall. Slowly, both turned to regard each other, Fire in their eyes. "If… If you ever come near my son again…" Ji Indur paused, _Your son? That was… you fool… it is your own folly for letting the child stray! _Aragorn lunged forward, pushing the wraith back against the stones. "My Folly?! Piece of corpse! Carcass even Orks despise! My folly indeed! Your Folly That You Would Attack A Child In MY LANDS!!" Indur hissed, wincing at the sharp rocks that dug into his skin. Aragorn let him drop, loose strands of rain soaked hair falling over his eyes. "Come near me or mine again, and I will prove a far harsher man that even Sauron was!"

Ji Indur laughed, _You?! Harsher than Sauron?! You boast poorly mortal! What know you of pain or cruelty; you are a child to me! An insect to one such as Sauron! _Aragorn smiled, "If that be the case wraith, than why did we win his own war?" Indur raised himself so that their eyes met evenly. _…you won…because ones greater than us all let you win…_… A cruel hiss ended his statement, and no matter the lighting, Aragorn could see his pale reflection swallowed in the depths of the Ringwraiths eyes. A cry from above drew both of their attention, Khamul held the struggling heir of Gondor in his grip, his eyes fixed on the two below him. Aragorn roared out "Release my son wraith! You coward! If you wish to quarrel do so with me!!"

Khamul laughed, a sharp bitter sound, _You want him, heir of Isiludur?_ Before Indur could cry out to stay the others hand Khamul hefted the child with a great heave and Eldarion gave a cry as he vanished down the side of the mountain.

"Eldarion!!!! Eldariooooon!!!"

Aragorn fell to his knees, and something broke, shattering his insides to pieces, slowly something else moved forward to take its place…

_So here you are again… spawn of Isiludur_… The rain was gone, the stony cliffs, now there was nothing… and a lone form came into focus in the heart of the dark hole. The Wraith lord gazed down upon him, his robes lay torn, the metal of his own gauntlets cut threw his flesh and his blood dripped slowly from the wounds. The long white mane lay stained with black upon his shoulders, his entire form bowed in pain. Yet his eyes glowed like embers in their depths, old even beyond their years. And his crown still stood proudly on his brow. Aragorn did not raise his head; his hands lay limp at his sides.

… _You are not giving up, are you mortal? No…not yet… I think not yet… you realize the boy is still alive…_ Aragorn's face arched up sharply, hate bordering madness flashed in his eyes, and the Nazgul seemed to catch his breath. "That boy, is my Son! And he will not be for much longer! Your Damned brethren threw him from the peaks of Minas Tirith!" The Witch king nodded, eyes hidden now in the depths of shadow. _…He will die… should he touch the ground… _the dark one leaned over the king's stricken form, and in hardly even a whisper…_ I can stop his fall, if you allow it…_ the offer scraped threw his ears like the gauntlets the Nine wore, sharp and piercing.

Aragorn lashed out, catching the others jaw with his fist and satisfaction pierced threw his grief as the wraith crumpled. The other tried to rise, failed, a pained hiss deep in his craw, the light fading from his eyes even as the black world about them began to fade, Aragorn felt the rain… "Wraith lord! Wait! Can you, I said Wait! No! Not Yet! Can you save him?!" There came no reply, the fallen Witch king lay still. With a curse to all things Aragorn struggled to hold onto what he saw in his mind. To stop that fall, if he can really stop his fall…"Do what you will!! Damn you! Do what you will if he will live!!" his voice surprised even himself, almost a sob, he could barely get the words from his throat. It seemed that a sigh echoed throughout the shadows, then a flash of light as if to shame fire drew the breath from his lungs…

Aragorn's eyes flashed open, he rose and strode swiftly to the edge and spread his hands wide, a feeling of panic filled him, this was not his mind commanding these motions, and a sharp voice hissed out…

**_fiith ta taar!! zaa- mûkarz!!_**

_hold him high!! Grip gently!!_

The storm shrieked its furry, and the winds lashed like whips against the stones, the city below closed their windows against the sudden storm that slashed threw the streets and scattered all that was not tied down like kindling. Upon the peak Khamul and Indur were still, their eyes glowing softly in their hoods. The rain itself had been blown away, the sudden drop in temperature turning what did fall into freezing snow. And in the heart of all this madness a vortex of wind had formed, rising swiftly up the mountains face with its passenger unconscious in its eye. It pulsed, settled upon the rock and in an instant was gone.

…for a moment there was silence, then the rain returned and fell softly onto the forms of the king, the wraiths, and the heir. Aragorn moved forward, slowly, his steps soft, inside his mind the Nazgul still held the reigns, but was unable to stop his host's timid steps. _(These feelings… almost painful… after what I have endured I did not think pain could still reach me… the sea had faded from my eyes…)_The king knelt, despite the wraiths desire to draw back. Gently, very gently, Aragorn raised his son into his arms; his eyes beginning to sting… tears fell as a sob of relief escaped his throat. "My Son… Thank the Valar, Eldarion, my Eldarion…"

Murazor hissed, the feel of tears on his face almost as sharp as the fires of Sauron eye, _(this pain… is this… I cannot… I died long ago…and this child is nothing to me… my brethren and my lord are my only concerns, …my lord…) _Aragorn did not stir, his arms wrapped protectively about his sons form. Indur shifted nervously, sensing Murazor's presence, concerned that he was not in control. Khamul hissed under his breath, his eyes sparked anew by seeing the Witch Kings power again. Aragorn sighed, (What is the price I pay now for your help Witch King… you are never free in your gifts.) silence answered him, than a low hiss_…(Why are you weeping?!)_ The King smiled, (So I was right, the nine have forgotten how to love. That is why I weep, foul creature, I weep because I almost lost something dearer to me than life.) Once more silence, then a wary question, _(…your life? you could have other heirs, you have your youth still…)_

(I would never have another such as him, one child cannot be traded for another. Anything with half a soul understands that.)

From the wraith lord there was silence, Murazor shuddered, a deep languidness settling over him, clouding his thoughts…_ (…To much energy used in that summons… what is done is…done…)_no more thoughts came from the dark being, all traces of his presence faded deep into the back of Aragorn's mind. With deep eyes the king rose, and with not another look at the Nazgul, took the path down from the ledges and into Minas Tirith.


	14. Chapter Thirteen The Journey Starts

_In my heart I feel the pull of fear, I can't allow,_

_To pull me under in a grip… that's strong, from years of practice hones…_

_Shadows stretch across the land, for which we fought in war,_

_I wonder now…_

_When open darkness rolls ore the land…and the wind brings deaths sweet tones…._

_Shall this be the day, oh Valar above, the earth reclaims my bones?_

_Though I am weary I will not rest, for we shall now fear sleep._

_A warrior's heart within my breast, yet mortal feet beneath._

_The roads are dark, the path is long, and darkness rules the skies,_

_Our steps are hounded by their songs, their Nazgul cries…_

Gandalf watched Aragorn's form come into focus on the path, he made no sound. Aragorn did not acknowledge him; he passed by with his eyes on nothing but the child in his arms. The wizard sighed, "Aragorn!" The king stopped, "What do you want Gandalf…. I cannot undue it, I had no choice." The wizard moved forward, his eyes soft. "Aragorn, I do not blame you… the fault is mine. I felt things were moving quickly yet I did not act, and now you pay the price of my folly…" The child stirred, his eyes fluttering. "Take him home Aragorn, I will deal with the wraiths, and…" Here the wizard paused, regret plain on his brow. "I fear your adventure continues Aragorn… just know this, whatever comes from it, you acted wisely…" Somewhere in the back of his mind the Witch King laughed.

There was a flurry of activity from the citadel; Gimli in the armory was collecting the weapons he had left there in safe keeping. Beside the white tree Legolas honed his aim, a determined edge to his mouth, a set fire in his eyes. Faramir drew sword, tossed it from hand to hand, his manner serious and solemn. (I will come back, and I will come back alive.) The guards of Gondor stood well out of the way as the fellowship drew together at the white trees base, "Where are the hobbits, have any seen Frodo and the others?" Gimli shook his head, "Nay, I know not. They will join us soon I'm sure. …We are all sure of this? War is good for a dwarf! What fear we blackness?! Live we not in the great mountains? Yet methinks it be not the way for an elf to travel…" Legolas smiled, "War is no stranger to elves, or dwarfs, nor to men or now even hobbits. But what you say is irrelevant Gimli, I dislike the dark, but I fought in Mordor's own walls, and my ancestors fought the great evils as well. I will not perish from lack of light."

Both turned eyes to Faramir who stood silent, his eyes on the blackness of the skyline, "… what fear I death… if it will save this? What fear I the end if it may prove a new beginning for this city, this world? I have fought for her before, and my blood has been spilled…. I will not shirk; I will not turn away from this… I cannot allow this darkness to hang over her, not while I still live…" The elf and dwarf turned away, their faces resolved. From above them on the path Aragorn looked down, the child in his arms sleeping. (I will never let the dark touch him, not my son… no matter what I may sacrifice, if you can Ringwraith, if you can where I cannot, than I charge you with his life. Protect him. And you may do what you will with me…) the last drops fell, the rain washing over the city and a low rumble of thunder sounded in the distance…

Frodo placed Sting into its scabbard; beside him Bilbo was carefully looking over the weaponry for something to suit him. "What we really need my boy, is two Stings! …To long, to short, to big, to broad…" Frodo sighed, "Here Bilbo, it's your sword. You carry Sting and I'll find… something else." The older hobbit looked at him with questioning eyes, as if to ask (Are you sure?) but he reached out and took sword and scabbard with a soft smile. "Your good to me Frodo, always were a good boy." Bilbo left to find the others, and Frodo turned back to the arms with searching eyes. (To big to broad, to long to short…darn.) There was nothing wrong with them, but certainly none were as fine of feel as sting had been, no, not even close…

With a sigh he turned and left the armory, grabbing the closest blade available. (It's no sting, but I'll adjust. Besides, no reason not to be optimistic! If all goes well, I won't even have needed to bring one!" The sounds of horses and riders reached his ears, and threw the doorway Legolas was tacking up his charger. "Are you almost ready Frodo?" The horse bit at his reigns as if to snatch them from the elf and avoid the journey. Legolas pulled them back sternly and the beast grew still. "Yes, I think so. Who is coming with us?" The Elf smiled. "A better question Frodo, is who is not coming with us." Faramir already mounted pulled up alongside them. " You are ready Legolas, Frodo?" Both nodded. Gimli ran toward them, looking almost comical under the arsenal he carried. "you might not like this methinks, but something's amiss with Aragorn!" Faramir mumbled something below his breath, "…Probably the wraiths… he cannot stand their presence…"

Gimli shook his head, "If that be the case, why is he saddling his steed? It looks to me that he intends to come with us." Legolas froze, his eyes confused. "That does not make sense… when I spoke with him last he had no intention of journeying with us at all, what would have changed his mind?" seizing the opportunity the horse reared and bolted, vanishing out of the stables and into the topmost of the cities rings. For a moment there was silence, and then a muffled snickering came from the dwarf. With a mumbled Elfish Curse Legolas set out to retrieve his horse and gear, or whichever he found first. Faramir blinked, "Now what do you suppose that was all about?"

Gandalf watched as the fellowship arranged themselves. (It seems all our hobbits are coming… that is something we don't need for a moment… and the steward has set himself to the task as I assumed he would. I somewhat worry for Legolas and Gimli…) he sighed, (at least we convinced Arwen and Eowyn not to come…) the shadows seemed to be fading, their warning delivered, (I know they will return, and bring with them the storm before we reach the gate, we have so little time…)

"Are you ready to go Gandalf, we must depart soon." The wizard turned, Aragon sat mounted, his eyes somewhat empty, and not far behind the wraiths also sat, their horses to frightened to even scream. Both whitened hoods were pulled to hide their faces, old steel hung at their side, and both hands and feet they had covered with leather gloves and boots. They seemed not men any more than when they had served the ring, now they were more mist than midnight, but that was all. "Gandalf, are you ready?" He shook his head clear, "I am ready, as always my friend."

(No Aragorn, I am not ready… and neither are you.)

The small procession cantered onto the fields, robes flying in the breeze as the shadows stretched to allow them passage, and in the skies above them the dragon whipped the wind to shame. (Will we return this time, what waits for us upon the road to Morgoth's realm? And when we return, if we are to return… will it be to the beginning for us… or the end…)


	15. Chapter 14 The Rain Came

Then the rains came….

There was a torrent upon the roads, the water streamed down, and all bowed beneath it. "Am I the only one to notice," Came a drowned dwarfs grumble, "That every time we have anything to do with them," motions to the Ringwraiths, We get wet!" Faramir chuckled. Gandalf watched the skies, his eyes dark, "…And so the rains have come…" Aragorn rode silently at the groups head, his eyes focused unwavering on the horizon. On either side rode the wraiths, their eyes hidden from mortal sight. The horses bellow them snorted, their eyes wild, and even the kings steed was sweating profusely. Not far behind the hobbits rode two to a horse, their normal cheer diminished into silence. Gimli walked, in his normal stubbornness he lead his horse beside him. Legolas was not on his steed, Gandalf held his beast's reigns. High in the sky the Elvin prince watched the unnatural storm as it moved, "We must turn left! Left, or we walk to its heart!"

Gandalf looked up, "What?!" Legolas leaned into the icy wind. "Mithrandir!! We must turn left!! The storm approaches!!" Faramir turned, "Gandalf, What does he say?" Gandalf shook his head, "I cannot hear him…" Khamul hissed, his head rose _…we must turn, the elements… are upon us… _the rain came harder, and the wind sent manes and cloaks flying. "Where did this gale come from!!! Aragorn!! We must turn!!!" The king paid no heed, he spurred pushing his beast into a run, and the horse shrieked as it tore ahead. The king's form vanished into the wall of water, swallowed by the storm. Khamul and Indur followed, their shrieks blending with the storm. Faramir halted. "We cannot go in!!! Aragorn!!! Come back Aragorn!!!" High above Legolas closed his eyes, the blinding rain stinging as it hit, and even the dragon roared out its displeasure.

Frodo blinked, "Everyone keep moving!!! Trust them!! Go forward!!" Samwise stared in shock as Frodo and Pippin vanished into the storm. "Mr. Frodo!" He and Merry disappeared after them. Gandalf threw up his hands, "Very well! Go in! Trust the Nazgul, the storm may be terrible, but they do not fear it! And I see nor can we!

The water crashed about them, the horses seemed to freeze, their shrieks echoing in the silence…

Faramir drew a breath, his eyes wide. Aragorn continued forward, the rain flowing in streams about his impassive form. He whirled suddenly, the horse rearing beneath him, one hand he raised, and called out in a tongue that drew shudders down their spines…

_Part for us… break your punishment…. I command… I command… _

**_-ûr izishu Kraash… latu danghum lag-…. -izg gashn-… -izg gashn-…_**

Aragorn shuddered, the rain whipped about him, and dancing within the droplets thousands of small forms screeched out in retaliation as they were pushed aside, tossed to the winds. And beside him the wraith lord pushed harder, curling his fingers into almost a claw murmuring further abhorrence's under his tongue. (Enough!! Enough!! The storm is passing!!!) The beast reared up as if to throw them, spittle flying from bloodied maw. (We will be thrown you fool!! Your accursed tongue is lashing the beast bellow us! I COMAND YOU TO STOP!!!) Khamul pushed his beast forward and grabbed onto the kings arm, his grip like a vice. _Enough Murazor… you have forced your will into the winds… now send the storm from us… I will assist…_The witch king surged forward and Aragorn crumpled with a cry bellow the assault as the two Ringwraiths wove their wills into the storms heart. (Those words… in that tongue… it burns, it burns…) a chuckle in the back of his mind, _(You know nothing of spell casting… spawn of Isiludur…)_

Gandalf moved forward as the storm passed, reaching out in a different tongue to calm the raging Nazgul. Khamul hissed and drew away, eyes aflame with the power of the winds. Indur moved to intercept him, feeling the intense hatred in the others mind._ It is passed Khamul… release it… let it pass… _the other wraith screamed, drawing his blade, _I bow to none now!!! Not Sauron!! Not his master or even Murazor!!! This is what I want! This is why I surrendered my soul!! To feel this free!!!_ The two fell upon each other with drawn blades, shrieking a fell cry to the very stars. Aragorn fell silent, his eyes like embers, spurring his beast backward from the advancing wizard. "Enough of this, you must stop them Murazor. They will destroy each other, and then there will be no way to save," Gandalf ducked away as the beast bore down upon him, one hand drawing forth a blade. In an instant the wraith rolled from the saddle to avoid being skewered, his own blade flashing as Narsil struck Glamdring.

And suddenly Faramir was beside them, his blade meeting theirs. The witch King froze, _(Wait… that one… I know that one…I fought him…at the gates…)_

The horse screamed, rearing on its haunches, the cry echoing into the still air. Blades flashed, gauntlets tore the air into shreds, and as The Road guard watched in silent horror the pounding hooves drew closer, closer… the scream began… like a sliver of death within the dark cowls. "To the gates!! Flee to the gates!! Faramir spurred hard, he and the others retreating into the walls of the destroyed port. (We cannot lose position here… if this falls then the road to Minas Tirith, Oh no…) The Black horse whirled before him, the wraiths shriek echoed and the black charger drew closer, red eyes burning in a midnight cowl froze his horse though it reared in terror. An Ork fell between them, and the Nazgul's steed cleared the carcass, one hove cleaving into the dead monsters shoulder and spraying blood onto its flank.

Faramir shouted and pulled the horses head around, kicking and sending the terrified creature into a gallop. Through the battle the way seemed to part for the black rider, the meager distance between the two drew ever smaller. A blade slashed just barely above his shoulder. The steward's son cried out as if he had been struck, for there was fire upon the blade and it had caught his cloak. He tumbled from his steed, rolling to safety from the murderous hooves. The wraith whirled, the charger drew near, its head lowered and bloodied foam dripping to the stones. On foot Faramir drew his blade and braced himself. Unable to turn aside there was a pained scream, the horse shuddered, muscles convulsing as they tried to clench around the blade. Now the wraith was forced to roll to avoid being thrown.

(No matter how far I've come, if I fight him like this I will lose… we have to pull back; I need to call a retreat!) "Draw Back!!! Everyone draw back!!" The wraith rose as silent as a shadow, black cloak rippling over proud shoulders as the cowled head rose to regard him. _…I know you… son of Denethor… shall you as well… leave your father without an heir? Your brother… already slain…_

"You lie!!" Sense forgotten he lunged upon the creature; the wraith drew back with laughter like shattered glass….

Aragorn pushed forward as he felt the wraith draw back, and the king of Gondor collapsed. "Gandalf… I never meant…" The wizard was upon him, placing another cloak around his shoulders. "The fault is not yours, he is unstable without a stronger will to guide his own, what to do with those two however…" Both wraiths glared at each other, leaning heavily on their steeds with exhaustion. Gimli startled the entire group with a chuckle. "If no one has a better idea, I say we move on before the rains come back. May haps we can go threw a cave?

The fellowship groaned.


	16. Chapter Fifteen Moving Onward

The fields blew gently in the wind, disturbed only by the horses and those that rode them as they passed threw. Khamul and Indur had fallen behind, their forms hunched in the saddles, faces hidden beneath the draping hoods. Above the ground Faramir cursed and rubbed his chafing thighs as the dragons scaly neck wore down the leather of his breaches. (So much good the blanket did, it didn't last more than a minute after Legolas's turn! oh my legs…) The dragon arched its neck, shooting the steward an inquiring look.

Legolas chuckled softly,(I wonder if he'll last another minute… maybe two…)

"Enough!! I can take no more! Land! Land darn you!" The fellowship on the whole grinned at the exasperated cry. Anantaboga pulled his wings to his sides, and with a huff dropped to the ground, landing with a bone jarring crunch behind the Ringwraiths steeds. Faramir remained seated a moment more, then, looking shellshocked, leaned and fell. Swiftly the others drew around him. "Are… are you well Faramir?" The steward looked up into the others eyes and gave a small laugh. "All right? All right? I'll be riding sidesaddle for months!" Gimli guaffed and offered the poor soul a hand. "Up you get Faramir! You'll be alright!"

Faramir hobbled to his horse, winced as he pulled himself into the saddle, and all laughed at his gasp of pain as the animal moved beneath him. "I think I shall walk! It's better than this!!"

Indur shook his head, (They are all so strange… do they realize what we are moving towards? They seem so… so, so unhurried, without fear, or regret…) the breeze blew his cowl from his face, and Frodo stared for a moment at the king of old before the hood returned to its place. _…Light filters threw the trees… and the breeze blows threw the glen…_ It seemed all else had fallen silent, Frodo gazed on even after the face was gone, an almost whispered tune, haunting, old…_The streams all flash with silver… from the little fish within…_

_A smell so clean to clear my head… below my skies so bright…_

_A sun with rays all golden spun… and perfumed hours of night…_

Gandalf turned his head, eyes wide with recognition.

_I love this land I call my own… I love each field and glen,_

_Each piece of bark from every trunk, the moss within each den…_

Khamul chuckled softly, his eyes glowing in his cowl. (They sang no songs such as this in my home… we sang of battle and victory and of hard days and wild nights…)

_The towering stalks of grain we've grown, the labor of our men,_

_And every mother's face, to see her children home again…_

The tune stopped, not more than a whisper whilst sung it lingered in the fellowships minds, replaying itself over and over again. At the front of the group Aragorn raised a hand to wipe a tear from his eye, unsure of what had made it fall. The wind swept them within the fields, the horses trod in silence, it seemed too fragile a thin to risk shattering by making a sound. Gandalf held the main of the beast he rode thoughtfully, his eyes deep and bright. (I feared our task might be for naught, but to feel that, I know better now. the Valar knew, these are still men, still good men somewhere deep, and a waste to throw to the winds…)

"Gandalf, where are we now?" Pippin and Frodo drew near, both looking slightly fatigued by the constant travel. "I believe… we may be in Eastfold now, if the stars last night read true." Frodo nodded, still craning his neck to look back at the Ringwraiths. "When do you think we will stop again? We have traveled three days now, and in all that time have barely paused to rest." The wizard nodded, "We press hard, but I believe we shall stop at nightfall, the horses are in need of grazing, and we of sleep." Legolas pulled his horse closer to join in the discussion. "If we rest at night, then we rest knowing they are at their strongest, and Aragorn will be at his weakest. I like it not." Gandalf sighed, "We must put the past behind us Legolas, and we have not the time to dwell."


	17. Chapter 16 Morgoth's eyes

They pitched their camp beside a tree that's branches would shield them from the skies. Legolas and Faramir were not pleased, (though the steward was still in pain) at the stop. Both were still quite well seasoned, and willing to push further, but the fatigue of the hobbits one out, and soon all sat around the fire listening as (for probably the thousandth time :)) Bilbo told the Story of his travels with the Dwarfs. "So he Drew back the Bow, and fired a great black arrow into the bare spot on Smaug's breast! And as sure as night turns to day…" A curious hiss came from Khamul; he stood not far from the fire, eyes glowing in his hood. _…A great black arrow…? With the plumes of a raven in its tail, and twining leather all of black?_ Bilbo blinked in surprise, "I say, you speak as if you'd seen it before!" The wraith laughed low in his craw, a sound like boots crunching on frost. _…Oh I know well those arrows… for it was only one of many… Akhorahil was our group's archer, and he made his arrows with pride… over the years… some were lost… this hero of yours, simply found one._

Bilbo blinked, surprised. "You still… have names?" For a moment Khamul was silent, then a deadly hiss began oozing from his throat, it grew shrill and grating, causing the group to cover their ears and wince. Bilbo merely stared on calmly, his expression one of confused pacifism. With an enraged shriek the wraith moved forward, blade slipping free from the scabbard and frosting, still Bilbo sat until the other was almost upon him, and then said softly, "If the question is unpleasant to you, you do not have to answer it." Khamul stood baffled; blade hefted in his hand, but did not strike. Instead the laughter returned, and with a swish of robe Khamul left the fire side in favor of the dark. The fellowship stared at the old hobbit, who merely sighed and said sadly, "You know, he was really something once… you can tell, people who held power, it clings to their very being. The way they walk, they speak…" Bilbo added a twig to the fire, "Those great people who cannot fall, unless they do so in flame."

Indur woke to the feeling of rage and sorrow, and the tinges of madness… _(Khamul… what have you done this time… can you not even move without anger?)_ Wearily the Champion of Mordor rose and mounted his steed, following the essence of his brethren until it led to a small ledge in the field. The beast did not run when he dismounted, and Indur paused, perturbed. True he had ridden horses that did not run when he took himself from them, but those had been beasts of Mordor, bred to carry the nine and serve as a weapon if the need arose. This hose was not of that line, he could see that much even if he were blind. Its mouth was small and delicate, with higher cheekbones and a finer arch to its neck. And though it was a beast of war, it was in no way as stocky or powerfully legged as any horse he had ridden in the past would have had to be, simply to carry his armor and tack.

_(So why don't you run, you foolish thing? You were frightened enough when I first rode you, I had to force my will into yours… surely you have not adjusted so fast?)_ Dismissing these inquires for a later date, the wraith approached the other. _…Khamul… what is it that drives you now… I feel your confusion, as well as… other things…_ The Easterling eyes glowed scarlet. _It matters not to you!! Do not pry Indur, least I remind you of the extent of my dislike of you, if you wish for company than dwell with those fools! _The Easterling turned his head away, …_You are weak as them already…_ Indur said nothing. His eyes glowing with his silent anger, cold as ice. With two powerful strides he crossed the distance between them and with a firm blow knocked the other to the dirt. _I am weak?! I am WEAK??!!_ Khamul lay stunned, his eyes now pale in his face as he gazed into the sky scourge's rage glazed eyes. _I am not the one of us who throws himself into pity whenever something is not as it should be! Do you see me sulking like a brat in the shadows?! Do you see me hiding from what is new? What is strange? I will survive this!! _The shriek echoed about them and all that heard it withdrew from the black tongue that had been screamed to the skies. Panting, eyes bright, Indur glared down at his fellow, and as quickly as his rage had come it abtated, leaving a wall of ice between them as Indur once more fell silent, his eyes speaking for him.

…_I will survive this, but somehow, I fear you may not…_

Indur turned and remounted the horse that once more tried to flee his presence, both horse and rider disappeared over the hill. Khamul did not move, his eyes were empty, silent, save for a shuddering thought that made his blood turn to ice. _(I know why Sauron favored him now… I know why… I know…)_

Gandalf watched as at first light the others placed their packs and weapons upon the horses, and watching Gimli load up ax after ax after ax… "…Is it a wonder he walks… with all that weaponry where would he sit?" Legolas laughed, catching the wizard of guard. Gandalf smiled back, it was a smile that said to kindly not repeat what they were smiling about. Legolas turned as Aragorn came out from under the tree and seemed to pause, the two regarded each other in silence, then Aragorn drew back slightly, his eyes troubled at the distance Legolas had put between them. In an unspoken apology the Elf smiled and moved toward him. The two went to gather the few horses still tethered to the tree.

It escaped none's notice that a horse and rider were missing. Indur had been silent since he had returned last night. Gandalf sighed, (I knew when we found Khamul things would become worrisome…)

( You are more distant than you have been, it is almost pleasant.) From the wraith within there came no answer. Aragorn sighed, strapping the saddle to his horse. (I know you have not left me, I feel you.) Again, there was but silence. The king stood for but a moment more in worried quiet. "Gandalf has said he is the key… what do we do if the key withdraws? I feel the darkness… it's getting stronger…" Legolas turned to him confused; it was unlike Aragorn to mumble to himself. "Are you well?" The king turned, then sighed resignedly and mounted the beast. "I am fine Legolas, as fine as any the Valar shaped can be with a demon inside them." (The journey begins again Witch King, I do not fear you, now show the way. For both our sakes, let us end this hurriedly.) There came an almost amused snort, the Ringwraith raised its head. _(So you sense it as well, as we come closer…)_ The voice faded, it sounded strangled, as if in pain.

"Aragorn! We cannot depart!" Frodo ran up beside him, "We cannot find the other Wraith! Indur went of after him last night, and returned alone…" Aragorn swore, frustrated at another delay. (We haven't the time for that wraiths foolish pride! The dark grows! Can he not feel it? Or is he just so comfortable with it?!) A sharp pain seized him, and he groaned, clutching at his throat. (What is this? Explain! I know this pain is caused by you!) The blackness of his mind seemed to shatter, and another world came into perspective. Black all black, with no sense of heat or cold, no light, and no air... a vice around his throat, held by a hand so icy, it burns! (Burns like fire and hail!! Witch King!! What do you show me?!) Then waves, waves breaking on a shore unknown, watching them fade…

**So now you lead him to me… Look well, King of dust. Look into my eyes…**

And the fellowship turned stunned as Aragorn fell lifelessly from his horse, the scream of a Nazgul echoing the thump of his fall.


	18. Chapter Seventeen The Price we Pay

Gandalf sighed, "I fear we have lost him again, but also the wraith as well… they are both beyond my reach…"

The fellowship was silent, Legolas fingered the string of his bow between his thumb and pinky, A low curse came from Faramir. "We must press on, is he well enough to travel?" Gandalf merely shrugged his shoulders in exasperation. "I would know how? How many times do you think I have seen a soul leave a body without the person being dead? I assume he will be fine, I fail to see how we can do him more harm."

Gimli nodded, "Well then we have no decision to make, I'll strap him to the saddle, and we can get moving." The taller members of the group exchanged skeptic looks, "Pardons Gimli, but…" the dwarf waved the steward away. "No need, no need, I'll take care of everything." And without another word the dwarf walked to where Aragorn lay, muttered an apology for having to do this, threw the king over his shoulder, and walked to the horses. Legolas shook his head, "I think he does not fully comprehend what he plans to do." Faramir nodded, "I agree full heartedly, but I will still gladly watch him try, …he will need a hand eventually…" Legolas chuckled somewhat half heartedly and the two followed the dwarf.

Merry and Pippin went to get their horse ready again, and Gandalf turned to follow them. But he stopped, and instead his gaze wandered over to where Frodo and Samwise stood. "Is all well you two?" Frodo blinked a few times, and a tad shaken replied, "Yes, yes all is well; forgive me Gandalf, my mind wandered…" Sam shook his head, his mouth worried. "He's been doing that a great deal sir, since we started, actually." Gandalf nodded, his eyes hooded with thought, "…I would not worry of it for now, it is no danger to anyone yet." Gandalf joined the others. For a moment Sam stood still, and then from his throat came a squeaky "Yet?"

"I could have managed it myself! I almost had it done!" Faramir sighed and finished tying the cinches, letting the elf deal with the irate dwarf. "We must make haste Gimli, and I fear you were moving a tad slow…" The dwarfs beard bristled, "I was nearly done!" The horse turned its head, seemingly as annoyed by the noise as the steward. Not far off the hobbits had managed to use an overturned stump as a mounting block and were ready to depart.

"I have already apologized Gimli…" the dwarf merely huffed in response. Gandalf chuckled as he stopped his horse before them. "Does anyone remember whose turn it is in the sky?"

_Mine…_

Indur moved forward, tendrils of frost weaving below his feet. Gandalf seemed surprised, "Very well, if that is true, I doubt any will begrudge you the honor. Anantaboga is resting in the field." The Nazgul nodded, then turned and silently disappeared between the waving grasses. Gimli blinked, "I don't recall us ever taking turns with the wraiths!" Legolas gazed after the dark figure with lightly veiled dislike. "We didn't, but I doubt the dragon will let him cause any trouble." Gimli nodded, "you know I wonder…" Legolas arched an eyebrow, "You wonder..?" Gimli snorted, "I wonder if wraiths can get chaffed?" for a moment the elf looked horrified, then slowly grinned. "I wish so Gimli, but probably not, probably not."

Khamul kept a distance from the party, it would do no good to be seen like this, to be seen this… weak. The wraith shuddered, a feeling of humiliation for a moment overpowering his anxiety. _(In all those years… all those years we rode and fought together… never had he melted, never had he struck back…)_ another shiver shook his form, _(To think, I, the emissary of Mordor, intimidated even for a moment by that pathetic little…)_ his thoughts trailed back to the fierce light in Indur's eyes and he shivered, despite himself. _(I am getting weak, to be so easily bothered, I feared no one in my service to the eye… save perhaps my captain on some rare occasions, but that was hardly being weak! That was being wise… none should ever stand before Murazor when he is in a wrath…)_

With an angry hiss he steeled himself, then spurred his horse to join the group that was slowly moving ahead, _(I will adapt, this is still an enemy whose strengths and weaknesses I know… and this disgusting feeling will fade soon enough. I will not be intimidated!) _

… _Not by that one_...The fellowship sensed to be wary, and kept safe distance from the wraith when he joined their group, though Bilbo did turn his head every now and then. To gaze sadly at the wraith with deep, sorrowful eyes.

Aragorn looked about him, stunned. Few times had a feeling like this seized him, one of such sorrow, and emptiness… there was nothing to see in this place, it seemed you could pierce the dark for a short time around where you stood, but rest assured you would quickly be swallowed again into the vast nothing. The ground was hard and bare, colorless as everything else, its solid presence the only thing that gave off feeling. (No heat, no cold… it's as if my senses have all failed me. What is this place, and who was… oh, those eyes!) Aragorn shook his head, swiftly brushing aside that memory for as long as he could, no use. Those eyes had seared his very soul.

A sound reached his ears, a moan. Desperate for sound he followed to where it had come from. Upon the ground the crumpled form was still, twisted grotesquely as if flung by a mighty wave only to crash upon jagged stones. A small pool of black lay about the form, it rippled softly as the moan came again. Aragorn felt as if he couldn't breath, the face of the one before him pulled up from long lost memories. "…Hoarmurath..? Is… is that you..?" there came no reply, the wraith was still. Almost timidly Aragorn circled the creature, perhaps it was dead now… the light that usually lit the wraiths eyes was absent, and the form so still… the feeling of another calling him drew him away. It was the same, another crumpled black robe, the armor shattered and piercing its wearer. (They are all like this… what could have dealt them such a blow, Sauron perhaps… no, no it was the other…)

The last figure was not so still, it twitched and writhed, the motions were weak, but they were still present. And he knew the eyes that met his before he even saw them, how could he not? Those eyes in that hood had haunted him so long; they were as familiar as seeing Arwen by his side each morning. "Murazor."

A weak hiss, it seemed the other would rise but he did not. _…So now… you are trapped here as well… _Aragorn narrowed his eyes, "Trapped, no. as soon as you stop this idiotic game your playing I will wake and join the others." The wraith stained at him shocked, _…you do not realize… no, I see it… this is different mortal, this is not inside your mind. You have left your body… do you see now… that is where you are fool…_

"What are you speaking of?! Not in my, then where in Mordor are we!!" Murazor grew still, eyes becoming vacant and glassy. "No! You listen to me! Where am I now!" Aragorn stooped down and shook the wraith, than drew back appalled. Black coated his hands, sticky and chilled.

"…Murazor… where is this all coming from…" in a moment of blind instinct as a trained ranger he felt for a pulse, then realized how pointless it was and moved the hood aside. Deep gouges ran down the wraiths cheeks and throat, pale skin, burned almost to charcoal hung in shreds. A small fire returned slowly to the blank eyes. The witch king laughed weakly, pain, pain and betrayal seeping from him with his blood, he choked, gasped, lips moving but no sound emerging till a trickle of blood ran from his mouth and it seemed he could cough his throat clear. Aragorn leaned his head down, barely able to hear the words… _…Do you see… our reward for all our service…years upon years… I fought for him… I…I gave my mind… blindly._

The wraith fell still, a sigh like held breath easing from between his lips. Aragorn made no move to reply, he did not stir, but he stayed where he had crouched, and cradled the wraiths head in his lap, in silence.


	19. Chapter 18 In the Forest

Aragorn looked up. From out of the shadows other figures were emerging. The wraiths were silent, their heads bowed with pain, eyes weak and movements feeble. But still they came, and stopped in a cluster before him. Then, almost like the shudder of a breath, the first lowered his form. Not much, a simple bend at the waist, a sign of acknowledgement, of respect. Then another, and another, the robes folded and the forms knelt, till all were before him. Level with him on one knee, and heads bowed until in perfect unison they raised and all eyes met his. Aragorn was stunned into silence for a moment, then, in understanding, lowered his head. There came a hiss of approval, the wraiths relaxed their forms. _We will go… where you go… we remember you… king of Gondor… we remember… how our lord dreaded your coming… betrayed, abandoned, we turn from him… _The faces bellow the hoods remained locked on his, and Aragorn sat silent. _We offer our assistance… for your group is coming here, we know… and so does the black one… _Aragorn lowered his head again. "I accept your offer, kings of old. We come to assist you, and will gladly receive your arms."

Khamul was still silent, and in the skies Indur watched the world pass below him with a feeling of contentment, though his mind was troubled. The fields were giving way to forest, and it was growing increasingly difficult to pass through the dense brush. Gandalf had taken to whacking branches out of his path with his staff. To no ones surprise it held up against the abuse quite well. But for the others the only option was to hack ones way through. Legolas stopped his steps yet again to free his hair, an annoyed sigh turning into an Elvin curse when freeing his hair led to loosing his cloak. Faramir fared not much better, dismounted and trying to pull his horses tail free without getting kicked. And, hopelessly entangled, Gimli watched his horse move on without him as the branches trapped him by his beard. "You see now why woods are no place for a dwarf!! Confound it! Someone pass me my ax!!" Legolas turned from freeing his cloak, trapped his hair, and gave the branch several choice words in elvish.

Gandalf laughed and freed Gimli, the laugh was cut off when the branches seemed to suddenly spring upon him, and his beard became hopelessly entangled. "…This, is no good." Faramir laughed, "I was just waiting for you to get caught!" Legolas shook his head, and then curse as it entangled his newly freed hair. "Confound this undergrowth! Never have I seen so much of it condensed into such a small space! And do not laugh steward; I fear we may never free Mithrandir now!" Faramir laughed regardless and moved to help free them both.

Farther up the trail the hobbits wondered what held back the others. Their smaller size had allowed them to avoid much of the vicious foliage. Sam sighed, "Do you all think we should go back and see what's kept them?" Pippin laughed, "Oh we know what's kept them! Gandalf and Gimli's beards!" all chuckled. From above the dragon roared, searching between the treetops for the group, unable to find them he landed in a small clearing, and slid a surprised Nazgul from his back. _"The trees are too thick, go find them, and bring them here." _Indur turned as if to protest, but stopped,

_(…It's like looking at the sun, looking into those eyes…_) the fire in the dragons eyes flashed, the creature's warm breath blew his grey robes against him. _(There were dragons… in my youth… they lived in the mountains… but I was never close enough to touch them, it was my fascination with these creatures… that opened me to Sauron.) _

…_I go for now, but I take orders from none. Forget this not… _the great head lowered until they were eye to eye, and the dragon humped deep in its craw, but it nodded before raising its neck again. The matter settled to his satisfaction, for he had not expected the proud creature to humble itself, the Ringwraith moved of through the trees, and was almost instantly caught. He hissed, and the area around him frosted, twigs snapping from the sudden cold. Now unhindered, he move deeper in.

Khamul hissed in annoyance, the steed bellow shivering from the feel of the wraiths displeasure. _(Those fools… they've caught themselves fast, and are blocking my path!)_ He spurred the beast forward, stopping just behind the wizard and company, a stray though filtered threw his mind, and emerged in a question he had no desire to utter. _Where are the Halflings…?_ Gimli grumbled, "Probably far ahead of this mess by now, Faramir! Hold still!! The trees eating your bum!!" Faramir shot Gimli a look of deep disturbance as he continued to try to free himself. Elvish cursing was heard farther up the path. Khamul shook, confused, but above this was worry… deep spreading dread… Gimli blinked, noting the light shaking of the Wraiths form. "Well, what's gotten into you?"

Khamul gave no answer, but his feet spurred the horse backwards, and his breath came in frightened pants. Gimli turned around and stared. "…Oh, me and my big mouth…"

"GanDaLF!!!!!" the wizard whirled and nearly dropped his staff at the sight that met him. Faramir, Gimli and Khamul were nearly half way up the tree by now! and the branches wove tighter about them as they carried them higher. "Dammit Gandalf!! Get us down!!!" Gimli hacked at a branch that was twining in his beard. Faramir seemed to be biting a vine that had wandered into his mouth. Gandalf rushed forward, but the wraiths shout froze him. _Leave us!! We will free ourselves!!! The hobbits!! And the king of Gondor! Go to them!!!_ Frost wove its way about the branches, crackling as it froze them in their tracks. Gandalf said nothing but was instantly running the other way, (Yes, they will manage! I only hope the woods are tamer where Frodo and the others are!)

Unfortunately it appeared that was not the case. Frodo and Sam were wound back to back as the tree curled its branches about them. Legolas was raising a bit of a racked, having taken to slicing the branches with his blades and cursing under his breath in elvish as his arrows proved worthless.

Merry and pippin were barely holding their own against a very pissy thorn bush. At the almost comic appearance of the threat Gandalf paused again, but whacked the branch that came creeping towards him sharply with his staff. "Is everyone all right!? Where are Bilbo and Aragorn?!"

Bilbo whistled lightly to himself, "I've never seen anything quite like this before…" the horse bellow him tossed its head, and Aragorn's charger snorted its displeasure at being so close to such a thing. The trees gave way before them to a clearing, and in the heart of that clearing lay a pond, frozen over though it was spring all around it. The ice was a dull black, and gave off a soft fog that smelled of blood, and roses frozen by an early frost... Cautiously, the hobbit urged the steed forward. It planted its feet firmly, fretting at its bit and tossing its head. "All right, all right, steady old girl, there's a good horse. I suppose I cannot blame you, part of me doesn't really want to go near it either."

A soft moan turned the hobbits head, Aragorn stirred lightly, his head turning to the side before falling limp once more. Bilbo waited to see if anything else was to happen, but it soon became evident that the King would not be waking. Once more the hobbit turned his eyes to the pond. (We ought to return to the others I suppose; Gandalf will surely know more of what to make of this than I… that's settled then. Ah, it makes me remember my old adventuring days… well; the smell was a tad worse back then. Old Smaug had the worst breath…) Bilbo turned the horses back to the forest, and froze. (Ents? I think not! These trees are simply moving on their own!!) a branch snapped out and grabbed a hold of his foot, pulling the hobbit from the saddle with an exclamation of surprise. The branch drew him higher, and Bilbo's eyes grew wide as part of the trunk opened to reveal a gaping maw. "Oh of all things! To be eaten by a tree! This is just ridiculoooouuussssseee!!!!!" the branch had splintered, dropping the hobbit to the ground where he bounced once, and rolled several times before encountering Ji Indur's boot.

…_Are you sound…_ Bilbo looked up. "Oh yes, I'm fine thank you, where is the king? Ah, I see." Aragorn was thrown over the wraiths shoulder; he seemed not to mind the cold, for he lay still. "…So then, shall we find the others?"

Finally, the forest seemed to forgive the travelers within it, for the branches ceased their trashing around nightfall. The fellowship sat huddled together under the dragon's wings, keeping the fire as strong as they could against the wind. Khamul and Indur were separate, preferring the darkness and wind to bearing each others company. Bilbo shook his head, "They are a strange pair, those two." Faramir shook his head. "Not so, I've seen stranger I dare say. Stranger, and more pleasant." Gimli quaffed, "Stranger than those two? Who would you be thinking of now?" Faramir smiled. "Perchance you and Legolas are one pair, what say you that?" Gimli's beard bristled, but he laughed all the same. Gandalf was silent, his eyes regarding the forest with distrust… (The hobbits were nearly slain this day… and Aragorn could have been killed as well had Indur not intervened… yet, we might also have come to misfortune had it not been for Khamul's warning…) His eyes turned to regard the ghostly forms in the shadows. Both braced silent and unmoving against the wind, their eyes aglow. (They knew before I, that there was danger here. And that is a puzzlement as well, I sense no dark presence from this forest… just a deep calm.

Perhaps… perhaps these woods are protecting something? Old forests can sometimes behave in strange ways… and what we witnessed today was nothing less than abnormal. It is best if I say nothing, at least, until I am myself sure of what I think… these woods… it would only fright the others.) Gandalf shook his head…

(" _Leave us!! We will free ourselves!!! The hobbits!! And the king of Gondor! Go to them!! … … …")_

(But in that same vein, are the wraiths… protecting us?)


	20. The Gateway of Iron

The rain stopped. Dawn broke weakly over the forests treetops, still, though for how long that would last none could tell. Gandalf walked quietly around the trees, watching them to see if they would stir. From under the dragons wings the others had begun to wake. In the distance came the cries of eagles.

Legolas rose, stretched, and shook Faramir awake. "Steward, where is Gimli? Wake Faramir, we've lost a comrade." Faramir moaned, "At this hour he may remain lost!" Legolas smiled, but doubled his assault. The hobbits were following Gandalf about now. It seemed someone had decided this was a good place to look for mushrooms. Anantaboga raised his head, and growled low in his throat as the dwarf crawled out from under his paw. "Some nights sleep! I dreamt a great serpent had grabbed me and…" The dwarf looked to where he had emerged from. "…Oh." Gandalf paused, looking down at the sprawled form of Khamul on the ground. "…Hm… are you with us grey one?" The wraith raised his head irritably. _Who are you… to call me grey one… white one…_

Not far off Indur stirred weakly, rolling to his side and vanished deep into his robes.

Bilbo checked the horses, eyes alight and eager to be off.

So when dawn had fully come into its place the group moved deep into the woods, he horses resisted as they pushed further on. "They don't like it, I know! But we are nearly there!" Faramir shook his head, "Where are you leading us! I have rode this steed against nazgul and orc! Simple woods oughtn't be frightening to him!" Bilbo shook his head, "Just a little further and we'll be there! You can start to smell it now!" Gandalf's eyes narrowed, "Indeed one can… stay close all! And let the wraiths be your outer sides!" The group changed positions, moving inward and allowing the wraiths to take the sides. The trees had begun to thin, and there it lay. Gandalf pulled up sharp. "Hold your places. And move no further till I give a/Khamul! Hold back!" The wraith had advanced, dismounting and moving to the waters side. He bent, to look over into the pool… Indur seized him, dragging him back_. Fool! Are you senceless! Have you faded! No! look not there!_

Khamul whirled on him, snarling as he forced the other to the ground, They crashed into a tree, loosing their hold on each other.

Khamul rolled a foot, and lunged back upon the other, tearing at him. Indur pulled back with a cry, black stained the ground as he pulled away. Khamul rose above him, and locking his hands slammed down upon the other, a crack like thunder split the air. Indur rolled stunned, landing at the waters edge. Gandalf rushed forward, but a blast of Arctic air froze his steps. The ponds ice was cracking, starting to split, and the smell had grown from unpleasant to overpowering. From the center a pointed arch had begun to rise, sharp as knives and glowing black like the darkness in a pit. It moved slowly upward until the water poured free from it, and the ice hardened again…

A door. A black, iron, door.

There was not a sound, Khamul panted softly, eyes glowing like embers. Gandalf knelt beside Indur, turned his head, looked deep into his eyes. "…Khamul, what have you done…" The wraith tore away from them, vanishing into the trees, the air behind him frosted and dark. The others came forward, looking at the fallen wraith, and at the great door. "Gandalf, is he dead?" The wizard shook his head. "Dead? No, not dead, but his spirit, much like Aragorn's, has fled its body. He is dead to us for now." Legolas swore softly. "pointless, and unprovoked, what seized him so?" Gandalf sighed. "…Khamul is…not stable, he is prone to quick wrath and madness. I fear Indurs history with him helped to cause this, but what troubles me is, why didn't Indur fight back?"

_(All I have fought for gone._

_All my efforts wasted._

_Pointless!_

_Pointless!_

_Always third!_

_Always showed up by that,_

_That!_

_Showed him, the fool,_

_Showed him that I…_

_That I am no ones solider now.)_

_I am no ones fool! I am my own master now!_ Panting, eyes flashing as he swept the branches away. _(Did he think I'd go back! Back to the darkness on a quest never to be completed! They're dead! They're all dead to me now!)_ There was a storm brewing in the distance, the clouds rolled over the sky. (_All I want now… is to be alone.)_

…_hissssss…_there was a snaping of trees, Bilbo pushed his way threw the underbrush, murmuring to himself about tree roots until he felt the chill and looked up. "Ah! There you are! We ought to head back you know, the others are rather fearful to go on unguided." Khamul drew back like a serpent, eyes glowing. _Go…away…_ Bilbo smiled kindly, "I can't without you, do you think I can find my way back alone and unhorsed?"

_Than die…_ Bilbo paused, seemed to consider it. "…no, I don't think I will. Not yet at any rate! T'would deny me the pleasure of your company!" Khamul laughed low, a sound like stepping on glass. _I am no dragon you can flatter fool! And I can see you! Do not mock me! _The hobbit took a step forward, "Mock you? Nay I do not mock you. And though I did butter Smaug up a tad, most of what I said to him was said in a measure of awe. It was not every day I saw a dragon in those days! I wanted to remember him well! …I had not known you were listening so closely to my old stories, I'm honored." In an instant Khamul loomed above him, nails like knives threateningly about his throat. …_I said, Do not mock me!_ The tips dug slightly, drawing blood. _I will slay you here and now if you dare, mock me!_

Bilbo winced, but did not loose the wraiths eyes. "…why do you think, that everyone is trying to degrade you? Can't you see? The only one who is doing so, old king, …is you." Khamul hissed, but his claws released their hold, he drew back.

_You were a fool to come here…_ Bilbo shook his head. "In my life I've seen a great deal of men, more than most hobbits at least. And I've learned something. None are the same, but they carry a tread of their character with them wherever they go." He thought for a moment. "Indur is a gentle person, a lover of life, and hard work. Aragorn is a leader of men, made to take charge, to serve as another's strength. Gandalf is… well, its hard to call him a man, it easier by far to call him a divine soul; …and the one you seek, for I know who you seek my boy, he is a spirit that is to wild to have ever been held. He should have been free from birth, able to wander as he chose rather than rule." Khamul watched him quietly, watched the old hobbit draw closer. "But to rule is your nature my friend, to watch, and guard from a distance, pleased if your name is ever uttered in a conversation not based on you. Your nature is to rule, and to guide." Bilbo gently took one of the wraiths hands.

"And now, we need you to guide us …what say you?"


	21. Chapter 20 Open eyes

Aragorn watched the Nine prepare, watched them take the shards of armor from their flesh, watched as they tore their robes to cover their wounds. Something was stirring in him, a hope, a thrill. Old battle lust long forgotten. (Why is it that their moves, a strange grace, that both fuels the blood and makes one feel weak in spite of oneself!) Ren hissed, removing the last of his ruined armor._ …Well… that is finished… how fare you Adunaphel?_ An angered hiss. _Tis sunk too deep! …I cannot pull it free! …at least I think not, not without loosing a limb!_

Uvatha moved beside Aragorn, looking down at him_. When the time comes… what shall you do? You claim your brethren commeth, but you are without your form. Can you fight…? _Aragorn's eyes deepened. "I believe they will bring my body with them, if not…" The Wraith said nothing, merely moved away. Ren loomed over him then. He seemed to speak, but closed his mouth instead. All of the Wraiths seemed to be waiting for something, (what? What more do they want of me? I have promised them help, what is it they-) a clang, the wraiths trembled, eyes closed as if to blot something out. Dwar hissed a warning, the nine seemed to fade into the shadows. Aragorn froze asa wraith seized him, pulling him into the darkness as well. Into the small area where things could be seen stepped a strange figure. Tall, fair of face, his hair long and golden across his shoulders, not a man, something more?

He bent over the Witch King, watched his still form for a moment.**_ "My loyal traitor… how fare you now?" _**Murazor did not stir, could not, he lay still. A cruel smile twisted the man's face, **_"We were both wrong, you and I. You said I could not break you, I claimed I could, and we were both wrong." _**he seemed to anger suddenly, a hand lashed out, grabbing the wraith by the throat and tossing him to the ground._** "For your failure I am trapped here! For your poor abilities I will never leave here!"** _He seemed about to strike again, Aragorn felt the Wraith behind him cower. But the blow never fell, instead the Dark One sighed, his hand ran in almost a caress over Murazor's still cheek**_. "..If only I had had a thousand like you… I could not have lost, even if they had destroyed the ring…" _**

Sauron rose, his eyes remained on the one below him, **_"To think we have fallen to this…" _**he turned and disappeared into the shadows, the sound of his footfalls echoing back to them. Then all was still.

…_Ha…had he had a thousand like me…_

Gandalf stood with the others, his eyes shut,(The gateway looms open, and yet we cannot enter it without one of the Nine…Khamul, you proud fool…) a crashing from the bushes, Bilbo emerged looking a little worse for wear. The fellowship tensed as Khamul strode out behind him. "Bilbo! What happened?" The hobbit chuckled, "Oh, the trees in this forest are moody is all! Are we ready to go?" Gandalf turned his eyes silently on the wraith. The Nazgul raised his head, eyes alight with defiance. "That will depend on our spectral friend, we cannot pass through the gate without him." Bilbo smiled, "I don't think that will be to much of a bother. Shall we?"

The water was like glass below their boots, so that it hardly rippled as they passed. The gate rose above them like a giant serpent of ebony death. The smell of rotting roses filled the air. Legolas shuddered lightly, (To this mere gate, Mordor is nothing. The feel that seeps from this is far worse…) Gimli looked his way, sensing his unease. Faramir watched the Nazgul carefully, watching as he moved into the lead, walking before Gandalf and placing his hand upon the gate.

Something stirred, the water at the far end of the lake rippled as something slipped out of the deeper recesses, cold eyes regarded the group for a moment. The wraith raised his hand to the door. The creature roared, lunging through the water toward the party. A voice rose over the roar. "In you fools! Follow him! He knows the way!"  
"Gandalf! You have to come with us!"  
"The door is closing Gandalf! Hurry!"

A short figure pushed the stubborn one in, and the gate fell shut with a clang like a death knell. The beast threw itself at the gate, to smash it, to seal the way forever that no man had any right to enter. A white paw caught it by the throat and hurled it into the trees. A Weight pressed into its side, a large maw of white, the creature closed its eyes…

…And Morgoth opened His.


	22. Twine threads of Fate, closed is the Gat

The gate was shut. Gandalf looked back to where it had been, his face drawn, eyes deep. The hobbits clustered around him, and Frodo turned his head to look into the darkness ahead. Bilbo clasped sting by the scabbard, his palm sweating. Faramir was still, Gimli, shifted his weight, but did not offer voice to his thoughts. Legolas smiled weakly, but his hands shook, if any cared to look for it. And Khamul bowed his head, and hissed… the darkness seeped into him, calling, always calling…

Something grabbed him, he jerked in surprise and made as if to strike. Frodo kept his grip and held the fallen kings eyes. "…it's all right, to be afraid old one… so am i." Khamul stood still, Bilbo cleared his throat.

"As much as I dislike the thought, we must go forward, mustn't we?"

Gandalf nodded, turning to look into the darkness stretching out endlessly before them. "…yes, the door to the time of before has closed, and now there lies no way out or back but through the fallen's lair." Gimli huffed,

"We could try to find another door… are you all right elf?"

Legolas had fallen to one knee, head bowed in silence. "I feel this place… the emptiness, madness… we have come for nothing. The wraiths are surely no more. Nothing could withstand this, this darkness…"

A soft glow settled over the group, Legolas stood quickly, looking about. Mithrandir smiled. "…It isallright, the cause is not so hopeless as that.The Valar stand by us, they see us here and offer us a light. We should press forward." The fellowship readied their arms. Khamul laughed at them, quietly, but mockingly. Faramir turned, his eyes dark. "…I see nothing amusing Ringwraith." Khamul seemed to grow darker; his eyes took a red gleam, but did not reply immediately, his head turned now to the sound in the distance only he seemed to hear.

_Your weapons are useless, what do you fools think to kill? All that is here is already dead, the sleep impenetrable by blade or curse. Sauron roams, but your weapons will not touch him, and his lord is as unattainable as the moon._

Gimli grumbled, "I dislike the thought of an enemy un-hackable, but killing them isn't our quest, or had you forgotten?" Khamul did not reply, instead he looked silently at Indur and Aragorn's still forms. For a moment something flickered in the backs of his eyes, a soft regret, and then nothing. Gandalf held his staff high,

"We must be on our way, and return as quickly as we can. I sense something before us, perhaps to the left…" and the fellowship moved forward.

* * *

Aragorn heard the door open, felt the life and warmth upset everything within the darkness around him, and reveled in it. (Now, we must meet them, the sooner we have joined ranks the sooner we can…) something had tightened around his throat, squeezing sharply as a vice. He choked in shock for a moment, his hands grappling to pull the fingers from his neck, to draw air. The grip only tightened, shattering his protests as spots of color began to swirl in the blackness, until he ceased to struggle at all. He tried to focus his gaze, concentrate…

A feeling of euphoria was settling in, deep languid…

With the fellowship Aragorn's body began to strangle.

* * *

Murazor slept, his consciousness fading in and out like the ebb of the sea, something drew him out of himself, away… far from the blackness and chill to a warm little room, with a fire, and a boy. The child was crying, holding his knees and weeping silently, to proud to cry aloud. His father was dying, and soon all of his little freedoms and dreams would be nothing. His eyes watched the flame, their golden light shone of his face like a mural in some warriors dining hall, turning the fair skin deep and bronzed, so that the tears themselves were invisible except for the trail of wetness they left behind. The image was becoming hazy, but he fought to keep it, for the boy was changing before his eyes into a child he did not know. The child lay awake in a fine bed, his mother asleep in the chair beside him, perchance from calming his nightmares.

His eyes were on the ceiling, and his tears ran freely, accompanied by muffled sobs. (Father…) the little mind reached out, touched his in briefest passing without knowing he was there. (Where are you father? Where are you…) it continued to grow dim, but the child was singing something, he wanted to hear it, needed to hear…

"Light, filters through the trees…

And the breeze blows through the glen…

The streams all flash, with silver, from the little fish within…" the eyes grew heavy, and shut. The child was still. Murazor stood shaken, something seemed to be clenching about him, grabbing his chest in a vice. _…I am always forgetting… when I sleep… If I wake… _A different pain clenched at him now, in the back of his being, as if from miles away, the sound of someone choking. He closed his mind to it, consumed in his own thoughts. _I gave my mind… _it came again, faded now, hardly a rasp. Something flashed through his core, a sword broken and reforged, a lion of gold, a voice offering everything for a child… The eyes of the Witch king snapped open...

...Sauron roared out, pain and surprise forcing him todrop the high king to the floor. He whirled about to seize his attacker, blood ran from the crack in his armor and onto the gauntlet tips… **_"My Witch King… you will regret that mistake_**…" The Nazgul lord crouched, his fire spent to its final end, but he raised his head in challenge, and shrieked for revenge.

_Seal my fate tonight…_

_Since the light has fallen…_

_Long I've wandered, lost in Sauron's hands…_

_I do not fear the end,_

_As long as death comes while I fight,_

_Seal my fate tonight… _

…_seal my fate tonight…_


	23. Chapter 23 To the Sacrifice

They felt it more than heard it, the scream in the distance. In Faramir's arms Aragorn was coughing harshly, a trickle of blood ran down his jaw. The steward raised his head only briefly, "His breaths are evening out, and there is nothing blocking the flow now."

Gandalf nodded, turning his head back to the shadows.  
"...That was Murazor, he calls forth a challenge."

Gimli shook his head, "How can he know we have come? The fool dosen't deserve to be saved! I'll tell you what I think, I think we ought…dragons and brimstone!" He ducked just as Adunaphel struck, splitting the space above the dwarf's head with the whoosh of steel on air. He whirled around again, gauntlets flashed as he drewa fist back to strike. Gimli parried him with his ax, but the wraith was desperate and maddened, the dwarf's streanght would not be enough to faze him. He bore down with all he had left, hissing with exertion as he bent double. Red eyes inflamed with pain spit fire inches from Gimli's own.

The crack was deafening in the emptiness. Adunaphel sank to the ground panting, his hands in the gauntlets shook. Gimli stared at the wraith in stunned silence, then stared at the two pieces of his mighty ax, then the wraith again. More than just his hair was red now. "You rotting piece of fellbeast dung! My Ax! My best ax! I get dragged here, on a HORSE, to save your sorry spirit! Go through more trouble than any dwarf would invite in, and you do what? You ruin my weaponry! You empty-headed air-based floating spook! You skinless, boneless, brainless, deranged wind-instrument!"

That was all Adunaphel could take, he fell to his side and promptly began to roar. Gimli stared at him in stunned horror as the ringwraith barked into his arm, one hand beating the seemingly non existent floor. Gimli looked at Gandalf and whispered in a voice tinging on traumatized, "What ails these Ringwraiths!"

Gandalf at a momentary loss for words opened his mouth and simply let it hang that way. Faramir was fixated as well until a soft and strained voice chuckled, "Gimli has that effect on people when he starts shouting…" Faramir looked down stunned.

"Aragorn! You've woken!"

Instantly the wraith ceased to exist as the Fellowship crowded around the King. Frodo alone did not look over at him, he stared at the wraith that now lay panting on the ground. He walked softly forward, and knelt beside the still form. "…you attacked us, are you that crazed with fear, with pain?"

The wraith looked at him; his breaths grew steady as his eyes grew cold.

_had I succeeded, I would have been doing you a service. _

Frodo did not reply, his eyes had become glazed, his hands fell like lead at his sides.

"He has given his final flame. Even if this quest is fulfilled, and we are free to leave when what must be done is, when you see the dawn one last time he will not be with you."  
Adunaphel smiled, and said nothing in reply. But his eyes held Frodo's with a strange power that he had not seen before, and he gazed transfixed until the wraith looked away.

…T_he right to rule, the right to be the king, can only be determined by your destiny little one. And all great kings know, when they follow the call into that pinnacle of existence where only those who were kings before them have trod, that they must pay the price…_

…_they must go willingly to the sacrifice, ring bearer. They must kiss their death like a lover, dance with it like a falcon to the sun. They must lower their heads to give their consent, and then, the king must die._

_And he knows it is time.

* * *

_

Murazor fell again, the ground hard beneath him but he rose, screaming his battle cry. Again the gauntlet cut him, again he fell. He pulled himself back to his feet, hissed. The boot caught him in the throat, cutting off the sound. He crashed against the unyielding ground, twisted on his side. Weakly his hands scrapped for purchase, he pulled himself into a crouch. Anatar stood tall as a mountain before him, swimming in and out of focus like a dream. His knees started shaking, buckling. His legs gave out, no longer able to hold him. He would not rise again. Quietly, he turned his head to the side. The still form of Aragorn seemed to fade, then vanish completely. Where the king of Minas Tirith had lain now rested nothing.

A short wheezing filled the air, it took a moment for the realization to come that he was causing it. A trembling took hold of him, racking him with the feel of ice water running down his nerves, leaving numbness in its wake. Something flashed past his fragmenting mind, capturing his attention…

_( "Do you regret any of it? Any of the crazed and foolish things we've done?" the sea breeze caressed their faces, and in the distance the cry of the gulls echoed the fading light. Khamul stood illuminated in the doorway, the wind blowing his graying hair about. His eyes were playful, affectionate. From below them in the city a gentle lull had fallen. "We've had some times, eh Murazor?" a chuckle, the other king stood beside him, the fading sun lighting his face, "Yes... yes we have, but I'll warrant you, they've not yet ended!" Khamul smiled, his eyes on the sea, "The gulls call the elves, and the dwarfs feel it in their bones, but we men... we have no calling for when the end comes..." A hand, firm and warm, descended gently on his shoulder. "Nay, we have no warning, but we have a hand in our fates... I will not leave this world without you beside me. I know not where I would go, but it would be unbearable alone."  
The Easterling smiled, "Nor I without you, we have stood together to long to be parted by such a thing as death. So we are agreed, neither will leave without the other." Murazor nodded, watching the last of the light fade. "We are agreed...it always steals my breath, watching the sea in the evening..." Khamul laughed…)_

Sauron smiled, his eyes bright as the form below him failed to stand, his eyes grew colder when he saw the tears.**_ "Have we become human enough to cry again, my witch king..?"_**

Murazor said nothing, his breaths were getting lighter, and his eyes began to glaze. The Miar knelt beside his servant, one hand reaching out, almost curiously touching the tears. The other curled around the wraths shoulders, pulling him up so he could better watch those eyes before they closed. Soft, rhythmic, with his failing breaths the wraith was murmuring something, he bent his head to hear, for the sound only grew lighter…

…_A warrior falls to the war, A star in mornings sky, The greatest tree must wither, And even gods may die…  
…I hear, the gulls are crying, their songs lead to the sea… And though this body soon will fade, I know that I am free… and the springs still lead to rivers…  
And fires still will burn, I lived, died, I fought, I fell,_

_And now the sleep the faded keep, I have never begged,I will not now,_

_But I will pray… not for myself.I was strong in life,I am strong whereI lye..._

_...Valar, if you hear this whisper…this final, fallen's cry… comfort Khamul and the others I leave,  
when their time has come… to…_

…Murazor fell still. The last of his air passed gently between his lips, his head fell back against the Dark one's arm. In the darkness...Sauron gazed mutely down at the still form, the Witch king of Angmar, Lord of the Nazgul, last of his proud Numorian line, was gone. A whisper escaped, breathy, choked off by a pull in his throat as he voiced his mind. **_"…to die?"_**

_**Frodo wept against Adunaphel, the wraith held him in silence, but his eyes wailed for them. Khamul stood stiff beside them, his head bowed to his chest. And none in the fellowship noticed.**_

_**Aragorn turned his head to the west and rose to his feet. He stood there, surrounded by the others but feeling completely alone. His face was dry, but his eyes were wet..**_

_**And Gandalf raised his head to gaze into the blackness above them,**_

**_And whispered to himself, _**"...now, you are free."


	24. Chapter Twenty Four The Furies beat

Indur stopped, his head whipped to face the shadows, the eyes glowed, then sputtered, died.

(…alone… completely alone…) he let his legs give way, sitting on the floor and pulling into almost a crouch. The hood fell from his face, exposing pale cheeks, and bitter tears. (All for this… wasted, his life, ours, wasted!) The gauntlets on his hand were the stuff of minds, but they clanked as he clenched them nonetheless. He stood, looked out over the nothing, and for a moment time seemed to stop. Something had changed, something had finally broken, something was new, and strange… JI-Indur surveyed the nothingness, his eyes glaciered and deep. His back and shoulder straitened. He had been betrayed, he had been isolated into himself even among his own, there was good reason… the lips parted, and a soft hiss echoed into the silence…

The betrayed would become the betrayer, and the fallen would strike the abhorrent.

Lion and Eye would fall both, and ice,

Ice and silence…

Would cover all…

Morgoth watched from his throne, and he smiled, just a little. **The blade from behind, is always the sharpest… ah my Anatar. What harm you do yourself…**

…  
…**when the steel is red…  
**…**when the shield has split…  
****And the Furies beat their wings of brass,  
****Be wary of the roads at night…  
****In the darkness lye the answers, that the fools alone would seek,  
****The snakes sleep in the grass…**

Gandalf eyed the darkness, the path was getting dimmer, and the light from his staff was fading. Beside him Aragorn let his hand fall from his scabbard, looking around in silent wonder. Faramir and Legolas advanced almost back to back, weapons drawn. Gimli strode beside them, rubbing his eyes. The building loomed in the distance, reaching seemingly for the sky of the realm of blackness. Above it sparkled thousands of small lights, almost appearing as the stars of the midnight sky. At their sides a forest was spreading into the shadows, driving back the blackness and replacing it with the soft twilight. A deer grazing near their path raised its head, a rabbit scurried through the underbrush. Frodo reached out curiously to touch the bark of a tree.

"…I am, a might confused by all this…" Bilbo looked about him again. "Where is this all coming from?" Gandalf looked back at the hobbit, the skin between his eyebrows furrowed.

"I… am unsure." Merry and Pippin stopped to regard a badger on a log; it sniffed at them, but did not scurry away. "As strange as this is, it seems… safe. A place that is special of itself." The badger, having seen enough, walked off. Samwise gave the two a nudge to keep them moving.

The hall grew near, the doors began to open…

And they were in darkness once more. Gandalf drew his sword, his knuckles white. "Ah, I should have realized… you were always the deceiver."

A chuckle in the dark, then footsteps. Sauron smiled, he walked casually towards them, his golden hair draped across his shoulders. He stopped before Gandalf, the smile dimmed somewhat.  
**_Well, at least you acknowledge my skill, more respect that I could glean from you one several of my better days. You bring quite the variety with you. _**Khamul hissed, eyes glowing crimson. Sauron turned his head towards the sound, his eyes deepened, and his smile returned. **_Ah… how refreshing to see you again …my easterling._** Khamul drew back slightly, eyes loosing their intensity. Sauron walked around the wizard and took the wraith by the chin, tilting his head to look in his eyes, to look deeper still… the wraith cringed, backing away and into the shadows, his hair falling over his face. Sauron turned the other way, extending his hand to Adunaphel.

The wraith planted his feet, keeping his gaze glued to Sauron's own, and whispered in a hiss,  
_…betrayer…_

Frodo stood still, still as death, a strange voice was whispering inside him, crying out with a sorrow that would shame the sea. He grabbed his hand with a cry. The missing finger had begun to ach. Sauron turned as if struck, staring at the hobbit with disbelief, his face twisted into a snarl. **_You! Ringbearer! From through the flames I know you hobbit! I see you now! _**Frodo turned and ran, a shriek sounded behind him, then another, both Khamul and Adunaphel fell under the pull of their lord.

Their cries drew nearer. Frodo looked over his shoulder, eyes wide in panic.

The wraiths were in pursuit, forms dancing in and out of the shadows, Adunaphel gave a shriek, Khamul returned the wail, then faded from sight. Adunaphel crouched and sprang further ahead, nearly flanking the terrified hobbit. Frodo leapt out of his reach, a sharp gauntlet flashed above his shoulder, and a spurt of red followed. Frodo screamed and fell, rolling out of the way. He stopped against one of the twilight trees, staggering back to his feet.

The bushes in front of him parted, Frodo froze. Khamul hissed above him, sniffing the air, his eyes gazed blindly above the hobbits head. A wail sounded in the distance, Khamul turned, then stopped. He whirled back around, smelling the blood, shrieked and reached for his sword…

* * *

…Gandalf yelled out his incantation, Aragorn swung Narsil. Legolas had drawn his knives and Gimli was keeping the hobbits out of the way. Sauron roared out as the spell wrapped around him, throwing it off and grabbing the wizard's staff. The wood flashed beneath his hand and the Miar gave a shriek of pain. Faramir swiped at his leg, the blade passed harmlessly through as if it was air. They did not see the Nazgul stalking them from the shadows. Legolas fell back, blood running from his side. Gandalf was yelling, gripping the staff with all his might, bracing as Sauron bore down on it trying to force it from his hands.

Aragorn's sword sank into the fallen dark lord's arm, red stained the blade.

Sauron cried out but did not release the staff. The wood shivered under the strain, glowing white as a supernova and cracking like frost. Still the Nazgul remained unseen. Narsil slashed again across the dark ones fingers, drawing blood. Sauron reeled back, howling not in pain but hate, his eyes held Aragorn's in a vice. Aragorn choked, feeling those hands around his throat again…

And fell gasping to the floor as Sauron wheeled about to face the assault from behind him, the wizard once more cracking him a burning blow with his staff. Legolas was the only one to hear the hiss, his eyes grew wide in surprise, "…When did Indur-"

The wraith leapt out before him. He had only a passing gimps like seeing a blade flash from its scabbard before the deed was done.

Sauron staggered, blood running from his many wounds as the wraith circled him, white hair ghosting out the corners of his hood. He reached to his chest, feeling where his armor had been pierced, looked stunned into the Nazgul's eyes. The flash came again, cutting across the exposed cheek where the helmet no longer protected. Sauron staggered, reached to swing his mace around…

…screamed as it, along with the fingers holding it, fell to the floor. Akorahil hissed with pleasure as he lapped the edges of his gauntlet. Sauron backed away, screamed out and leapt again, this time from Dwar. Five deep furrows ripped down each of the Miar's sides where the armor was thin.

Weakening now, he watched with disbelieving eyes as the wraiths closed in around him, their eyes glowing red in the darkness. They advanced, closing tighter until he thrashed to throw them off.

* * *

...Red splattered the ground, the shrieks of the hunting Nazgul drowned outSauron's cries.

Morgoth smiled as he watched the battle behind closed eyes, savoring the moment when his lieutenant realized he had been abandoned. Laughed at the panic in the Miar's spirit when he realized why he was growing weaker, The Dark Lord drawing the strength from his bones.

The screams ended, fading into the blackness like the memory of an echo.

In the darkness Morgoth stood, well pleased with the gift he had been presented by his, 'ever loyal' lieutenant. In all of creation he was yet to see a better pack of hunting hounds, and would probably never find a more enjoyable, 'kill'.


	25. Chapter 25 To be A King

Gandalf stood still, as still as he dared. Beside him Aragorn watched with wide, stunned eyes, as the three ring wraiths tore their lord to pieces. "…Gandalf…" he whispered, "Gandalf I thought the wraiths were bound to the dark ones will, so how is it that this…" a bone splintered with a crack, causing all present to wince. "…how did they overcome the pull? Their strongest was Murazor, and he…"

"Died at Sauron's hands, yes Aragorn I know. He was crippled early on, I think. He had little left to fight with, though I doubt not he had the will. But this should be far beyond them. Sauron was far too strong to be taken down in this manner… No Aragorn, they are under a new hand now I fear…"

Legolas moved closer to them, brushing Gimli as he backed away. "More than a new hand, they have a new flight leader. Khamul will be in ill humor at this. Mithrandir, we must go, we cannot reach them like this." Gandalf nodded, eyes distant.

"…It cannot be that the Valar wish us to face Morgoth… that is beyond us, but if they have bound themselves to him…" Ji Indur let out a satisfied hiss, the two wraiths at his side studied the group with new interest. Faramir coughed,

"…I hate to interrupt my friends, but they are staring at us." Gimli grumbled under his breath and pushed his way forward.

"And I without even my ax."

* * *

Frodo stared, eyes wide in terror at the tip of the blade, it touched the edge of his nose and a line of blood was running lightly down his cheek. Khamul panted, his eyes loosing the glazed hue of red, settling back into their unnatural brown. "…Khamul, are you… can you…" the wraith king looked down at the small hobbit shaking below him. Something twisted his insides. _(What have I become Murazor…? I journeyed with this creature, shared camp with him. I protected him… a fool! I have always been a weak fool!) _Enraged the wraith drew away with a snarl. _(He is not my concern! His fate, his death, they are nothing to me! No bonds of kinship bind me, no ties! No promises or debts!)_ the red had crept back in, seeping over the iris. _(…I should not feel… such pity. For such a waste of…) _the red faded out again. _(I have always been weak, I was weak so I leaned on you, I leaned on Annatar, I leaned on anyone…) _

Frodo watched silently, sensing the inner conflict, but wisely saying nothing. A soft warmth had touched his hand again, seeping through the missing finger. He clasped his other hand around it tightly; hopping the Wraith hadn't sensed it as Sauron had. Khamul sat, his head bowed. _(I cannot hope for help from you anymore my friend.)_ His head turned, regarding the ring bearer. _(I must do what we would have thought was right, in the days before. I must be a king again…)_ Bilbo flashed before him, smiling that sad, distant way. _(…if only to prove I still can.) _

_Rise ring bearer… we must find the other fools… they do not know their way in the dark_… Khamul turned his head, sensing others. Adunaphel, Hoamurath and Ren watched him quietly.

_…Indur, has become crazed… we sense his descent into madness… Akorahil and Dwar have cast themselves with him. We must… seek the mortal king…Murazor wanted him spared… _Khamul shook lightly._ (Murazor wanted to spare the mortal king? I am somewhat surprised… but Murazor worked in strange and mysterious ways.) _

_Then we will seek them. We must Uvatha, we will need superior numbers…_

Thought none within but Wizard and Dark One knew it, the gate between worlds was almost fully waned. Soon it would be thin enough to breach.  
They were running on borrowed time, and it was running out.

In the shadows spreads the stain…  
The Nwalmaer lights the spark,  
And Nazgul and Dark lord both are undone  
As the Ring remembers its mark.

Alas, alas, the end must come,  
Death is the friend of late,  
But be not fooled by his toothy grin  
You cannot escape your fate.


	26. Chapter Twenty Five Ring Lord

_**Author's note: As allwaysI own nothing except the nifty Dragon! he's mine. special note for song theft and alteration.

* * *

**_

_Roads go ever, ever on…  
__That's the song the hobbits sing,  
__In wafting months of summer sun,  
__Fading autumns, budding spring…_

_Roads go ever, ever on…  
__When the winter drops her snow,  
__Beyond the mountains bleak and dark,  
__And still beyond the oceans tow._

_Far beyond the ringing bells, of Gondor's city circled white,  
__Beyond the fords and fragrant dells,  
__Beyond all hope, or love, or light…_

_Roads go ever, ever on…  
__And that's how it ought to be…  
__But though that may be true for some,  
__It has never held… with me._

Khamul picked his steps carefully, they passed without a sound. Adunaphel, Hoamurath and Ren followed not far behind him, and Frodo walked at the back. (I wonder what's become of the others…) Khamul turned, as if sensing a foul breeze and steered them clear. (Sam… I think I begin to understand it, somewhat… I see shadows again, as if wounded by the ice blade. I see as they see." Ren stopped suddenly, refusing to go further.

_We cannot pass this way… the great shadow resides here._

Khamul nodded, looked quietly into the deeper shadows. _But we must go closer still. Uvatha is near, I feel it. _

Frodo shivered, yes, the dark was stronger here. He opened his mouth to speak, but the protest died on his lips. It seemed hopeless suddenly, all of it, hopeless. They had expected the Nazgul to follow them; they had expected Indur's help. They had expected the Witch King to help them return through the gate of iron and ice… they had expected…

…

… …

… So much more than this…

Ren looked down at the Halfling quietly, his eyes still to cold to do anything but worry the hobbits mind. Khamul stopped and turned again, shying away from where it seemed they had to pass_. Perhaps we can call him out to us… Is itbeyond our abilities… can we not reach him?_ Hoamurath snorted,

_Were it that simple… it would already be done, but our ring bond is shattered… we cannot reach him there._ Khamul hissed his frustration, paced the edge of the shadows

_Sauron is dead, what we believed to be the worst is now behind us, and yet we are just as powerless now as we stood before. We cannot leave him! _

"Perhaps we must…" the wraiths turned to regard Frodo. "...For now, until we rejoin the others. Gandalf may know what to do, what must be done." Khamul hissed and shook his head dismissively. _We have not the time to wait on them; the dark one will not permit this game much longer. I will go myself, alone if I must. I will not fail again…I will not be weak once more…_

Frodo smiled softly, hummed a little something under his breath, the Nazgul paid him no mind. "Roads ever on… but bolted stands the door…  
Faded and lost, far from sea and Valinor…  
In the mists and shadows, bound within their shade…  
...

* * *

_...All shall fade…all shall fade…"_

A mad dash to safety, Gandalf motioned to a large tree not yet faded. Up they sprang.  
Aragorn helped Samwise into the boughs, Gandalf and Legolas pushed the Merry and Pippin up after, and Faramir was left with the dwarf. "Gimli put some muscle into it!"

"If Dwarfs were meant to climb trees we would grow Bark instead of Beards! Do I look an Ent to you?"

"You are as heavy as one!"

Bilbo stood and watched the approaching wraiths with confused and betrayed eyes. They lingered on Indur for a moment before Legolas tossed him up as well. "It should not have come to this… not another tree at any rate. We have no eagles here old friend." Gandalf smiled.

"No, no eagles. The Windlord cannot hear us now." Legolas held his side and clutched his branch.

"We cannot remain here, I have no doubt they can climb."

"They can climb, and you are putting me in a tree!"

"Quit yourself Gimli or I shall do so for you!"

"Steady yourself Steward before you would clash blades with me!"

"You have not your ax!"

"HA! Coward! Challenging me when I'm unarmed!"

"I will leave him down here Gandalf! I will leave him!"

Gimli took the warning and pulled his weight up. Now all the fellowship save Frodo sat in the tree, the wraiths glared at them from below. "…Did I ever tell you about the last time I was in a tree with Gandalf? And there were goblins and wolves and many dwarfs?"

"Only many times Bilbo, many times."

"Those Dwarfs weren't meant to be in the trees either, had I but my ax…"

They drew closer, Indur looked upon Gandalf with crazed eyes. All the wisdom had bled from them, bled out and filled back in with hatered, suffering. But not madness… not yet, the mad cannot mourn as he did, as he was.

"He is in pain Mithrandir…" Legolas closed his eyes and shivered. "Pain from betrayal and fallen pride. I would rather not die for it." Gandalf closed his eyes, furrowed his brow a moment, nodded.

"Pain, yes. Encouraged by Khamul's attack, Murazor's fall… the dark ones presence. I cannot reach him, he will not permit me." Aragorn had closed his eyes and turned his head away, he could feel them still. He raised his head for a moment; a dull red glow replaced hiseyes for a momentbefore it sank beneath the surface.

"We remove those that we can, kill the others if we must. We must do what we came here to do. It may be that none of them will ever leave here, but we have not the time. The door is opening as I speak."

Gandalf did not have the chance to reply. The wraiths below were no longer alone. Khamul had appeared with the rest of the Nine at his side. And Frodo as well, looking surprisingly in place amongst the cursed kings of old. Indur turned to meet them, hissing below his breath and spreading his steel clad fingers wide.

...In a moment they were upon each other. Centuries of hatred and resentment struck out at once as Indur met Khamul fire to fire. They grappled, slashing mercilessly at each others unprotected skin. The screams were wild and maddening, Faramir collapsed against the trunk with his hands over his ears, the rest of the fellowship fared little better. Merry stared into space with the look on one trapped in a nightmare, Pippin crawled out to him, tried to rouse him. Frodo had curled up upon the ground, a hand gone to his shoulder where it clenched the fabric desperately, sweat forming on his skin.

Indur crashed to the ground; Khamul beat him down, lunged for his exposed throat. He withdrew swiftly, black ichor seeping across the slashes in his cheek. Aragorn's hands curling into fists with shoulders shaking, trying to suppress the sound, too familiar to him, too real. The other Nine standing silent. Unearthly in their stillness with the scene playing out at their feet. It was insanity; they would tear each other apart!

Gandalf was the only one to see the fiery glow that was covering Frodo Baggins as he gasped on the ground. The only one to see the hobbits struggle… He was powerless to do anything but watch as Frodo fell still, as the light was noticed by the Nazgul nearest, how they recoiled in shock and fear. Until like a flame he stood above the deadliest of the Ring wraiths as they bled each other, and spoke in a voice of power.

"**_Puzg zaug- latu."

* * *

_**

Translation: You must stop

Yay LOTR!


	27. Chapter 26 Necromancy

Author's note: own nada! Nice to hear from you FrodoFreak! Here we go…

* * *

It hurt, oh how it hurt. As if every muscle was being pulled flush, and even the blood was forced to thin in accommodation. Every square of skin too hot, stretched, his eyes watering from the heat. But stop they did, instantly. 

Khamul gazed at him mutely, in shock.

Indur grew still, confusion on his countenance.

Both of them blazed before him, was this how Sauron had seen them? Like a flickering star muted by fog and ice? Like blue candles, flickering, fighting for life in the dark. The fellowship in the tree was vastly different, not muted as the world had appeared under the ring, but … different. Something ran through them, like a line of white fire, it wrapped about their arms, chests, and throats… **_Life._** Something whispered to him, **_You see their life. The thread of their years, so easily cut short. Compare the Elvin thread to the man, the Dwarf to the hobbit. See that the Nine have it not, and that the wizard's trails like a cloak behind him._**

"Mr. Frodo! Are you all right Mr. Frodo? It's Sam! Can't you hear me? It's your Sam!"

"Frodo Baggins, are you all right?"

"Can he hear you Gandalf? Look at his eyes…"

"He hears us Faramir, speak to him, we must draw him back to us. Speak to us Frodo, do you feel well?"

"Mr. Frodo! Oh I knew it was trouble! Won't you talk? Can't you talk?"

"Oh Frodo! It's Bilbo! The ring never did that for me, how is it? I will admit it would hardly have been a convenience at the time, lit up like old Smaug's breath, but how is it my boy? It looks positively thrilling!"

**_They are asking for you… we can make them go away, all of them, even your Nine if they displease you… do you want that?_** (…no. no I don't want that. We came here to help the Nazgul, all of us.) **_Then we will speak to them, we will do as you wish. Do we require more assistance? I can send for it…_** (Who? Who in this foul place is there left to call save the dark god himself? There is no one…) **_There is one; he is never beyond your grasp, though now he wanders past the halls of Mandos… _**(No! I know what you're thinking! No! It's necromancy!) **_Is it?_** **_Was he… double dead, here? He has been faded a long time young lord… we remember, that betrayer… we remember what he did to us... _**(…What he did..? what did he do?) **_We will show you… we will show you…traum- ! traum- ! traum- !_**

**_

* * *

_**

_**Flashback to Story Twisted Fate:**_

_Those who see through this glass, have no soul…_

_Those who see but their thoughts, have no minds…_

_Those who see here their memories, they have no hearts…_

_Those who see them have all three entwined._

"To protect and defend, to honor, and cherish. For you were married to your people by your blood, and your oaths…"  
**_Strange darkness,yourworld, another time…_**  
"…you are wrong, your lord will rule the lands, but you? You do not even rule yourself."  
**_Intervention divine and memories woken…_**  
"…It does not have to be. I know you heed me not, but listen! For our time, both yours and mine, grows short. Will you help them? Fallen one! Will you lift up your sword for the land once more, as you did when you were new! Sauron will destroy all if he is not hindered, even his own… he cares not for you, and you know it, don't you..."  
**_Broken oaths… broken bonds…_**  
"Time is not easily moved, and history reluctantly changed. I can open the door, but you must find your way back from there. It will fight you, do not fool yourself. And should you get through…" Gandalf paused, "…Should you get through, you must return to the battle of Pelennor, to the field, before you were struck by the maiden of Rohan. And there, king of old …there is where you die."  
**_Traitor! Traitor!_**

**_

* * *

Back to here and now: _**

...Not possible… was it? They had lost the war? Eowyn had not slain Murazor? Minas Tirith had fallen… (No! I would remember! We would all remember!) **_Why? Why would you remember an existence that was undone? You do not remember because it was warped so that for you it never occurred._** (But after the war! The possession of Strider and the race to Mordor! None of that would have happened with the Murazor you have just shown me! He betrayed Sauron!) **_Yes, he did, and he knew he had changed history when she slew him. But time corrects itself. It whipped his memory clean. He forgot, regressed, drew back to what he was meant to have been. It was the price he had to pay._** (… … …) **_There are those that do remember. We remember, of course… we were their, and so does the white wizard…somewhat. But as Murazor was, his mind was swept as clean as could be done._**

**_Shall we call him? He will heed us, he must heed us… he must… we want him back… _**(…Yes, call him… I have to tell him, it's not fair. I have to tell him that he died… a hero.)**_ We will call him, we will tell him, he will be pleased, he will praise us, he will join us, and he will be ours!_** (I have to tell him… to die like that, to come back after so long… did he know at the end? When Sauron crushed him? Did he weep? I have to know… I have to speak with him…)**_ We call you Witch King! We call you our oath bound! We summon you traitor and betrayer! Come to the one who rules you! You are not allowed to die!_**

"**_Ash nazg durbatulúk, ash nazg gimbatul, ash nazg thrakatulûk agh burzum-ishi krimpatul.! _**

**_-izgu bugud-z brus- -thu! W_**e have called beyond!

–**_izgu dâl fiith- lat!W_**e hold you still!

**_baduzg- lab thak agh ghashkrut- izishu!" R_**eveal your face and and answer us!

Gandalf grew pale.  
Aragorn closed his eyes and trembled.  
Faramir and Gimli moved to shelter the Hobbits.  
Merry and Pippin looked on uncomprehending, frightened and confused.  
Sam tried to climb down from the tree, but Bilbo stopped him.  
Legolas clasped his hand over his ears and shuddered.

...And one by one, the Nazgul began to scream…


	28. Chapter Twenty Seven Hope

Authors note: as always I own nothing, Yay?

* * *

_The stars hold no wonders for me anymore, the  
__Heart has gone out of their light.  
__Enough I have had of this place and its endless night._

_My thoughts turn within too often of late,  
__Enough to wake in me a doubt,  
__A question of whether or not it was fate,  
__I hunt with the others, our lord will not wait…  
__All my will is now bent to the task.  
__It is not my place, to question, or ask._

_But ah… what I would give to feel once more,_

_To push aside the blinding veils of grey…  
__And with a hand of flesh and bone take another's hand in mine own,  
__And there I'd stay._

_Somewhere where the land is green, and the sun rises in the sky…  
__Somewhere untainted by my brethren or I, where I could rest,  
__Where I could kiss the waters clean, and on the grass like emerald lye…_

_Do I dream, when I think I can remember the color of the sun…_

_Do I dream, when I remember as if asleep I was once more than one…_

_One of nine… forever bound… running without breath till the Ring is found…_

_Never a rest… never an end… on and on forever…_

_But I am not that clever,  
__..And I cannot remember, the color of the sun.

* * *

_

Morgoth turned his head,

Outside the opening gate Anantaboga thrashed and roared.

The light that surrounded Frodo faded, turned dark… it stretched out as a web, the black becoming murky in its wake. His eyes rolled back to white, his hands fell limply to his sides… a clang split the silence as a blade slits a vein, a helm of dark forged iron rolled to a stop at the foot of the tree.

And there He stood, mist creeping from him, whole and restored by the power of the ring, his tattered robes of spirit mesh drifting about him, his face hidden beneath his cowl. A low, deathly sound… a hiss…

Gandalf clutched his staff, placing it defensively before him; Aragorn shivered, grew pale and wane. Legolas grabbed his shoulder ant steadied him. Murazor bent, gauntlets creaking he took the helm from the floor and slid it down over his face. Then he stood tall again, and faced the Halfling that had escaped his blade once before. Frodo seemed to tremble, a hand crept to his shoulder for a moment before returning limply to his side. And the ring spoke through him, shaping his lips and twisting his tounge into the black speech of the days before Minas Morgul and the black tower.

**_My Witch king… my temperamental fool…_**

Murazor did not answer; his breath came as mist from the cruel crown of his helm. Instead he turned his head, looking at Khamul and Indur as they gazed upon him, one with horror, and the other with awe. His hand spread, curved as claws the gauntlets beckoned them forward. They came, stood at his side, Indur reached out and touched the hand, seeing it real he knelt before it, eyes returning to their Valar givin shade. Khamul stood before him, asking without asking, 'What did you see? What is there for men at the end? Are we truly damned? Was it worse than this?' but his mouth was silent.

Frodo watched this with a small, almost bitter smile. He spoke again,

**_Will you not greet me? I have returned you to those you treasure, if treasure anything you still can, I have returned to you your form, will you give no thanks?_**

"This is darkness I know not how to describe Mithrandir," Legolas whispered, "Where has Frodo gone?"

"He is trapped in the thrall of the ring," Aragorn closed his eyes and gave a deep shudder, "He is trapped in its thrall as surely as I was ensnared in my own body by the Witch King."

Gandalf said nothing, his eyes were on the form of the Wraith lord, gazing as if through a veil, slowly his eyes widened in amazement.

And Murazor turned, Looked at the White Wizard a moment, _…Yes… _he hissed softly,

_I remember old fool… I remember…_

In an instant he was hurled to the ground, Frodo loomed above him, glowing gold as a fire, **_So you admit it then!_ **He roared,** _Traitor to your oath! Breaker of your Vows and harbinger of Doom to those you serve! Accursed creature! Without my power _****_you are dust! And still you dare to look away? Face me my Nazgul! My Wraith! I will not tolerate your weakness! You will not question my power, nor will you defy me further--_**Another voice broke in suddenly, panicked and light,

"Sam! It's dark Sam! Gandalf! Aragorn! I cannot see! I cannot--"It was silenced with an almost audible clang, Murazor leapt to his feet and slammed the hobbit to the ground. A crack followed, and a wail distinctly Frodo's, a hand fought desperately to cover a shoulder. But the Power was gathering again, and Murazor was pulled away by Khamul and Indur before it could focus.

Temporarily abandoned Frodo curled up upon the ground and whimpered, blood dripped from his arm where the gauntlet had caught him. "I am sorry… oh Valar I am sorry! I didn't mean for this! To tear you away! But I wanted to tell you, I wanted to know… I wanted… and it is all darkness now! I wish I had not left the undying lands! I wish Gandalf had not chosen me for the ring! I am as trapped as you! As cursed as you!  
And I feel the door, and it opens ever wider! Go! You must go, for you are a slave again and the fault is mine! Seek the sun, the light, the door! you cannot wait, it will not close until you and yours are flown! Take my Sam, the fellowship, and go! Murazor I beg now! You know this darkness well, take them and leave me! Leave me now!"

He wept, the blood stained his hand, rolled across the missing finger. Bilbo gave a cry and started forward but Akorahil grabbed him, sensing Murazor's will. The Wraith Lord loomed over the hobbit, as he had before, as he had done with a dagger of eternal wandering in his hand. He stood and looked down. His frost, wafting like liquid ice, chilling the Halfling below him.  
Frodo moaned, turned away, almost gasping for breath. Paler still he grew, wan and dark eyed, the power eating him away without effort. Sam reached out vainly, "Mr. Frodo!" He cried.

Murazor bent and took off a gauntlet, then grasped the hobbits chin in his hand; the mist about his finger gave a piercing glow,

_I am no ones slave now._

Frodo gasped, clinging to the wraiths chilled hand, eyes wild with fear. Murazor inclined his head a little further, and let the hobbit cling.

_What, had you wanted to tell me…_

Frodo was still a moment; his breath came a little deeper. "I just wanted you to know, if you didn't, what it knew, the ring, what you had done. I wanted to tell you, that it couldn't have been easy…did any cry for you? Did any morn?

Murazor seemed to smile, bitter, but real nevertheless_. …Would it have been any easier… if they had? _He said no more, nor did the ring bearer, and the Nazgul, the rest of the black nine drew close about them, for just a moment they were together again, real and un-pained, sane and free, it was enough.

The fellowship came down from the branches, Aragorn and Gandalf before them. Aragorn shook his head, somewhere between relief and confusion. "I, I do not understand…" Gandalf lay a hand on his shoulder.

"It is not for you to understand my friend, nor is it for I, or he…" Murazor did not respond; he was consumed in his thoughts. At length he looked upon them; the eyes glowed like the stormy surf within the dark, deep… old beyond breath, and hope. Fire and ice... Aragorn shielded away, closed his eyes and turned his back with a shudder, but he did not leave.

So stood the Fellowship, and the Black riders of Mordor, and together in the darkness for the first time, there was hope.


	29. Chapter 28 Braver heart than mine

Author's note: I own nothing yet again, except the Dragon. He's mine Dangit!

The moment ended, the ground quaked.

The air grew warmer, from somewhere in the distance a light shone across the ground.

The door was opening; Murazor lowered his head from the glare, turned to the wizard… _We have no more time… run… run swiftly. _He grabbed the hobbit and tossed him across his shoulder. The wraiths drew together, hissed, the temperature around them dropping as they braced for conflict. In an instant like a spring freed of its coil Homurath bolted, the others close behind. The fellowship matched their pace, even the hobbits. Save one. Bilbo looked hopelessly after the group as they grew further and further ahead of him. He panted, pushing himself, remembering his youth and the speed with which he had run then.

Still the gap grew larger, winded, the old hobbit stopped and stooped with his hands on his knees. "Well old boy… you really aren't as young as you were, even old Bombur would laugh at me now…" he looked after them, smiled, and then grinned outright at what was coming towards him. Khamul had lowered himself into a sprint; he seized Bilbo by the back of the shirt and whirled back to the group. "So I was not forgotten!" Khamul hissed in irritation.

…_I beg to differ… had I not looked back…_

"But you did, thank you! And not a moment too late either! I'm sure it was inevitable; at my age after all, I am not as I was. …but, why did you come back?"

…_that is…what a king does. He looks back, and he returns._

Bilbo laughed, whipped a tear from his eye and whispered… "Yes my boy… that is exactly what a king does."

Aragorn kept pace with Murazor, the ground grew increasingly violent, the tremors threatening their steps. The Witch King turned his head, hissed to Akorahil, the wraith swept to the back of the group with gauntlets curved. Legolas kept pace with Gimli, who was urging along Merry, Pippin, and a baffled Faramir. Gandalf was clocking all of them, side by side with Homurath, his staff aglow and lighting their way. Samwise was only a step behind Murazor, keeping his eyes linked with Frodo, who was reeling from the Nazgul's chill. But with his body so impaired, the ring stood unable to take hold. Indur and Adunaphel took the sides, Ren and Uvatha flagged out in front. "How far is it to the door? The hobbits are winding!"

"We must keep moving Gimli! And we are not there yet! If they fail they must be carried!"

"I do not understand this, I really do not…"

"Yes, yes Faramir, we know. Just keep running!"

"Legolas, do you see anything?"

"No Aragorn! It is all blackness still, and the light we saw earlier has gone!"

"Has gone, or is being blocked… haste everyone! We must go faster!"

Dwar hissed as Khamul came up beside him, spared a momentary glance at Bilbo and called out… _…Murazor… where is the door…?_

The witch king did not respond, He looked at Aragorn, Aragorn returned his gaze. The two looked forward again and continued in silence. The constructed scenery crumpled, dripped like wax around their feet before fading as if it had never been. Pippin stared as a squirrel melted below a dripping bush, and jerked with a cry as Gimli pulled him onward. They were close, the light had returned, but they were fools if they couldn't see the titan's silhouette inside it. Morgoth was already at the door.

He did not face them, there was no need. There was too much outside the door, so much more important than the mortals now, he stretched out his hand as if to grab what they still could not see. The sickening smell had returned, and the whispers of the forest were seeping in. the gate stretched wider still, ripping a crack along one of the sides. Gandalf stood tense, his staff still held high, the light falling short of the fallen Valar's face. Aragorn shivered, and drew his blade.

That moment, hopeless beyond hopelessness, there was no movement or sound, it seemed frozen in time. Frodo closed his eyes, whimpered.

Samwise shook and trembled, one hand shot out and took hold of Frodo's.

Legolas and Gimli braced, Merry and Pippin looked with eyes that did not truly see, their hearts and minds hardened for battle, and death.

Faramir closed his eyes, (I was warned, I might never see the city again… all I have fought for… brother, you stood with me at Mordor, and this place is darker still, but I feel you. If this is where I die, and why I die… it is enough.)

Bilbo looked on, feeling old beyond his years, (surely all the good that has been done, is not meant to fall to this slaughter.)

…And Murazor shrieked, thrust his hand within his robes and drew blade.

"Ringil…" Gandalf gazed stunned, "From whence did you acquire..?" Morgoth turned, his words carried sharp.

**You would dare so offend me? Fool! You have been below my concern of late, vessel of my liegeman's hopes, release that blade!** He loomed above the Witch king, eyes aglow in the heights of the dark. Murazor did not yield, he brandished the blade all the higher. Morgoth snarled and smashed down to crush him. Aragorn stepped beside the wraith, and brandished Anduril. Gandalf raised his staff all the higher.

"Faramir! The Trinket I gave you when you rode after Aragorn to Mordor! Do you have it still?"

Morgoth's hand crashed before the wraith, but not upon him, he remembered well the blade. He reached back, this time he would strike.

"Yes Gandalf! I have it!"

"Take it out you fool! Take it out and raise it high!"

**Faded of the race of men, I will shatter you to the voids!**

Faramir drew forth the Vial, The vial of Galadriel that Gandalf had borrowed from Frodo and entrusted to him so long ago. It shone like a nova, blinding in its brilliance… which was exactly as Gandalf had hoped. Morgoth roared his anger, retracting his hands to cover his burning eyes. Murazor tossed the Hobbit to Samwise,_ Pull him back and keep distance, I have not the time to spare thee! _He reared to his full height, as terrible as he had been on the fields of Pelennor, and drove the blade into the dark god's foot.

Morgoth gave a cry, stung by Fingolfin's sword; blinded by the light of the Silmaril he was pained and enraged. He kicked out, sending wraith and sword flying. But The Witch King shrieked and sprang up again, lunged forward and leapt; he carved a slice across the knees and drew away. Morgoth struck out blindly, scattering the fellowship as they ran to avoid the deadly blow. Gandalf gave a cry and lunged forward, the names of the Valar upon his tongue, his staff alight like silver, Murazor circled around slicing deftly, pressing the advantage until the titan's sight cleared. Aragorn threw his weight into Anduril as it sank deep into icy flesh.

The gate was open, sunlight flooded the blackness, once more blinding the Dark One's sight. A mighty roar came, and a burst of brilliant flame. Anantaboga sprang into the gape and curled his form upon Morgoth, biting his throat and clawing his eyes. The Valar grabbed the dragon by the maw and wrenched the gaping jaws away. At last able to see he gazed enraged upon the great worm.

* * *

A splash, coughing, Merry and Pippin pulled themselves upon the shore. The branches were still, everything was still, and calm. If they hadn't just run through… well who would have known… Samwise came gasping up beside them, dragging Frodo under his arm before pulling him upon the shore. "We need to keep him cool… I fear, he's not speaking to me, and the ring..!" Pippin grabbed Sam and shook him.

"Frodo will be fine! Gandalf will see to him when he can, where are the others!" a splash was his answer, Bilbo swam up beside them and flopped upon the grass.

"I… have never seen… anything… so… well goodness me…" Merry stood and looked back over the water.

"I see Faramir and Legolas! And Gimli as well! But still no Aragorn or Gandalf, or the Nine." The man, dwarf and elf joined them moments later. Faramir stretched out winded, eyes shut, and shoulders trembling. Legolas sat slightly huddled, his arms about his legs, his head bowed to his knees.

"…we should not have left them, Mithrandir is tiring, we could have helped…" Gimli scoffed.

"Yes, our corpses could have barricaded the door, (grumble)…me without my ax. We were no good there Elf. You know it, I know it, and he knows it too. They won't hold it against you."

Legolas turned his head, but he did not meet the Dwarfs gaze.

"I was… I was too afraid to aid them. I was too weak to have assisted even if the power had been in me… I am a coward."

"Are you all crazy?" The fellowship turned to Bilbo. "Coward? Coward! That title is reserved to one alone here! I! And I will tell you Legolas that you are in danger of being… well, rather foolish for an elf. We have just stood below the original Shadow, and we trembled! That is all we did! Tremble! Stood beneath a thousand Saurons and we did not die! We did not scream! We did not crumple! Oh yes, cowards we may be! But we are the best cowards this land had to offer, and I bear that title with pride. …Legolas, this darkness is closer to you, and so you felt it very keenly, it is not a coward's heart in your breast, you must believe it, as we do."

Bilbo turned back to the door. "Many a braver heart than mine is struggling with him still; we must place our hearts with them."


	30. Chapter Twenty Nine Shattered Gates

Author's note: I own nothing yet again… sigh…

They sat on the shore, dripping and chilled. Faramir stood beside Legolas, his hand on the elf's shoulder. Bilbo and Frodo stood at the front, the other hobbits behind them and the dwarf, silently watching the water. The trees swayed above them, the sunlight died, obscured by the massive black clouds that had gathered above. It began to rain. Bilbo shivered and looked at Frodo. The ring bearer did not turn his eyes from the door. It loomed, stretching an encroaching blackness upon the still pool. Lightning flashed above them, the rain turned into a torrent. There came a great crack from the gate, then a shriek of twisting metal. The gate wrenched to its side, bent backwards, the iron curled and misted, the reek of death filled the air. Then a scent like dying flowers… the gate contorted again, it was crumbling now, falling away into the water as those on the shore hardly dared to breath. Great chunks shattered the surface, the rain roared all the harder, and the gate of iron fell to pieces, and slowly… very slowly… vanished from their sight.

Merry gave a cry and started forward, "Gandalf! Aragorn! Come back! Come back!"

Pippin grabbed him and held him still, whispering feverently the best comfort he could give. Gimli took a step forward, he seemed about to take another, but fell still. His eyes teared, but the tears would not fall. Legolas buried his head in his hand, Faramir did not look at him, he gazed lost across the water, and murmured, "No… Aragorn, Gandalf…" Bilbo turned his head away, walked back to the rest and sat with his back to the water. Sam reached for Frodo, but the other would not move. His eyes continued to scan the water, the fading rain splattering upon his shoulders, shading his intent gaze.

"…Mr. Frodo, we should… I think we should… I don't know what I think… Mr. Frodo? They stopped him, didn't they, they stopped him?"

"Yes Sam, yes they did."

Faramir rose to his feet, he choked a little, but his tone did not bode argument. "We must return to Minas Tirith, they… they will be honored in all ceremony and respect, but it does my heart ill, to linger here." No one answered him, but slowly, one by one, they rose and walked away. Frodo was the last, he let Sam take his hand, but he looked back before the pool vanished from sight behind the trees.

… … ..?

The water rippled, it spread across the surface, lapping the banks. It rippled again, and again, bubbles rose to the surface, they grew larger, the ripples turned into waves. With a deafening splash white wings breached the surface. They thrashed madly for a moment, the rest of the great beast followed. Anantaboga reared on his hind legs and roared, eyes bright and proud. Half drowned upon his back Gandalf gasped and began sputtering, "I was not ready! I was…(cough) Aragorn! Are you drowned Aragorn!"

Sputtering answered him, then coughing, then laughing.

"I am not drowned! I am wet, and will probably never take a bath again, but I am not drowned!"

"I think Arwen may insist."

"I think that may occur, yes, she will."

"Then what will you do?"

"…I will probably forsake that hastily uttered vow."

"Good man."

The fellowship froze, hearing the mighty roar. They turned and ran back to the pond, Faramir began to yell instantly.

They saw them, Murazor leaning heavily on Aragorn, Gandalf trailing not far behind them. The rest of the nine followed, squinting, and dripping wet, and the largest of all swam tiredly behind them, white scales stained red, but whole. Khamul shook the water from his robes in the shallows, hissing disgustedly. The other Nazgul followed his example quickly, still disliking water. With a clap like thunder the clouds dispersed, the lake shone like glass, the smell passed away. And above them, high and unchallenged in the sky, the sun shone upon them, bathing them in brilliance. Gandalf turned his head skyward, lifted his staff. It shone, the two lights met and embraced.

There was a sense of victory in this, sublime as any had ever been, Aragorn raised the war shout, Faramir and Gimli followed, Legolas and Gandalf, the hobbits like a small army, and finally the nine lifted their cry. The woods trembled, the birds spooked ant fluttered, it was complete, the wheel had rolled full circle, victory had come.

Frodo stood before Murazor, his eyes bright, playful. The Witch king looked silently back upon him. They stood that way a while, alone with each other even as all about them the rest rejoiced. "…I am free, now, from the moment you touched me I have hurt from your wound, I have ached from the blade, and now it is gone, as is the madness of the ring." The Nazgul did not reply. "But are you free, Murazor? Has the pain left you as well, slave no more, and no more a king?" a soft chuckle, the wraith looked away.

_No. the pain is there. It will not fade for me; I hold it too close to my spirit. Perhaps, when this form is forever and always scattered to the winds, then perhaps... But never while I stand, I am a shadow, and a vengeful one. Annatar, picked me well._

Frodo was still, then he reached out and grabbed for the iron helm. Murazor moved away. "I want to see what they see. I would see your face, if you would show it."

_Ah, but fool, you have seen it before._

"Yes, and I did not look very hard. Show me, if you will." Frodo reached out again, lay his palm bear. The Witch king placed his hands upon the sides of the helm, and pulled it free. Frodo stared hard, Murazor returned his gaze. "…Thank you. I know you don't know what for, but thank you." The wraiths eyes glowed a dusky red,

_No, I do know. It is already done._

Frodo nodded, "Yes, it is done. Our time on middle earth has long since waned thin. Soon we will kiss the sunrise goodbye for the last time. But, I think… this was the way to end it. It had to be this way; this was the only end that could have come." Murazor looked at him for a moment.

_My time is long done, and yours. But you are a fool if you think this is how it was to end._

"And why is that?"

…_Because in the end… nothing ever ends. And the tale cannot ever finish in the middle, the ending is always beyond our grasp._

Faramir grabbed Gandalf by the shoulders. "What happened in there? After we left! Where did the sword come from? And did you know about the light? What is all this!"Gandalf laughed,

"Peace Faramir! Let us warm ourselves with a fire first, then I will tell you all I can!


	31. Chapter 30 Into The West

Author's note: I own nothing but my dragon. :)

The fellowship was on the road again. The woods lay behind them, warm and comforted Aragorn was deep into the story, the others rode close by to listen. "And once you had gone we pushed all the harder, he had pulled Anantaboga from him and was working to keep him there. I was distracted avoiding both feet and tail, and Gandalf was beside me.

I had lost track of the Nazgul, and Murazor. I heard his screech and looked up… he had driven the blade into Morgoth's hand, then he was tossed to the ground, the sword remaining imbedded. I sliced with Anduril as he fought to pull Ringil free. Anantaboga went for his eyes again...

I fell, and rolled to avoid being crushed. Murazor was still not moving, and the other wraiths were untouchable, they would have killed me if I had come too close, there was no light in their eyes. Gandalf was shaking, the light from his staff flickered. I heard Anantaboga scream, the light went out completely and for a few moments I fumbled in darkness. Then I felt Indur behind me, he said to me. "Remember when we flew? Use that memory well." And he was gone again. I rose and ran forward to where I heard Gandalf chanting. The ground shook violently.

I fell, Gandalf beside me. The dragon lit up the black with his breath. The door was open, and Gandalf was pulling me toward it. Murazor had risen and was saying something I couldn't hear, the Nazgul were waiting for us on the other side. Murazor and Anantaboga were still not with us." He paused, looking back to where the nine walked in silence. "They were fading in and out of sight, almost as if mist…"

Murazor. He was silent, detached. The iron helm once more covered his face. Indur and Khamul flanked him. The other nine behind. Gandalf drifted back to them, falling into place beside the Nazgul. "…it is time." Murazor drew rein, the beast shuddered below him. The rest of the Nazgul grew still as well. Ahead of them the fellowship stopped in confusion, Legolas turned to Aragorn and grabbed his hand.

"Look at me! Do not look behind you!"

"Why? Legolas release me!"

"Do not look at this! It is not for us to see!"

Gandalf held out his hand. "…Do you remember, long ago, at the gates of Mordor when all the world was lost, when you were seeking the way back, and you returned to the gate? I asked you for the strength to die. And you accepted." Murazor did not reply. "So it has been, when a great evil falls his apprentice takes his throne. As Sauron followed Morgoth, you are set in the path of iron blood, to succeed the Eye." Aragorn jolted violently and tried to turn, Legolas pulled him away again. Anantaboga stepped between the fellowship and the wraiths.

"Will you fight me for the throne of blood, Witch King? If so, draw blade now. We approach the sea line, and I will end this there, if you do not resist me here." A soft hiss, then another, Gandalf did not retract his hand, he winced when Murazor grabbed it, gauntlets digging into the skin.

_Do you dare… mock me..?_

The forest around them grew still.

_Do you still dare… to play with me?_

Blood welled around the steel tips and dripped to the grass. Murazor released the hand and seized the wizard's throat.

…_I have the power… to follow the shadow, so you tell me; do you try to tempt me? Insult me or inform me? Do you seek another Dark Lord?_

Gandalf did not answer; he held the wraiths gaze quietly. "I seek, nothing more, and nothing less, than what you will give Murazor. As we stood before, I seek to prevent disaster, and you are the key." The wraith hissed, but there was no ice in it. "We have accomplished our task, have you ended yours?" The hand around his throat tightened, and then released altogether.

_You ask too much of us wizard… we are not… and never have been… passive. I have no wish, to be yet another symbol to rally against. I have not the stomach for it anymore. If you fear, that without a shadow, the light will fade, you are well afraid. Seek your dark lord elsewhere white one. My reign… is already done._

Gandalf nodded, he stretched out his hand again, "I did not want another dark lord, and you are too bitter to contemplate light without darkness. But I say it is possible, and this is the start. I offered only a question, to see if our struggle had been in vain." He took the gauntlet in his hand. "It was not." The two were still a moment, then Murazor spurred his horse into a gallop, the rest followed. They raced ahead across the opening fields, their grey robes billowing behind them.

"Gandalf."

"Yes, Aragorn?"

"He may try to kill you."

"…no Aragorn. He will not. He is not so weak, that he cannot face sharp words."

"Mithrandir, when we reach the sea, what did you mean? What will become of them?"

"I do not know Legolas, I know only that it is there I was told to lead them, and so there we are bound."

Frodo slept on, Samwise beside him. Faramir kept watch that they did not roll of the horse. "I feel, almost sorrow, and I know not why." Bilbo, half asleep, turned to Faramir and lifted an eyebrow.

"Why? Oh I can tell you that. The greatest adventure my boy. This was it." Faramir was quiet for a moment.

"We stand at the start of an age without fear of the shadows… what I have dreamt of since I was a boy… and yet…"

"Yet you may miss some of it? You will, I promise you that. There will be nights when you lye awake long after the rest have gone to bed, and think to yourself, oh how I wish I were running for my life again! Don't scoff! You will, and then you will fall asleep on the road to Mordor, or here, just going somewhere down your memories, and the roads go ever on…"

Gimli walked up beside them, his horse in tow. "The weather is clear, and no rain in sight! We may well get the rest of the rest of the way back dry!" In the distance thunder rumbled. Gimli's beard drooped. "…I shouldn't have said that, I shouldn't have said that, I shouldn't have samsgraplesnurgrusedsmmnn…"

By the time the storm hit, they were well into the fields. Once more the dragon's wings provided shelter. The fellowship huddled together, keeping warm. The Nazgul stood a distance off, they watched the sky, uncaring of the rain. Khamul passed close to Murazor, trembling lightly. The wraith lord placed a hand on the others shoulder.

* * *

So it came to pass. The sea before them, and middle earth behind. One by one the wraiths passed into the lands beyond. The first was Ren, and the last, Murazor. The sea rolled gently, no ship was in sight, and the sun was falling into the waters. Murazor gazed across the waves, a strange light in his eyes, the roar of the surf swamping his senses. Something flashed on him, Faramir dropped his reigns in shock, Gimli nearly choked. Murazor turned back to them, his eyes old, and dark, and yet… Aragorn strode forward until they stood face to face.

The waves soaked his legs and he shivered, the Numorian king was silent and still. At length he drew breath, _" Heir of Isildor, king of men. You, and your son, are the last of this proud line, tracing back to the Noldor, through Numor, to the city white, the last light of the old world."_ Aragorn nodded. His eyes clouded slightly, and Murazor hissed lightly, _"I have done you harm, and I cannot undo it. Nor would I, if I could. But look at me now, King of men, see me when I was flesh and honor still. Forget us, and our twisted fate. You have the world we squandered."_ His eyes flashed for a moment, then stilled. _"Do not make the mistakes, of we who sing in silence."_

He reared up above Aragorn, dwarfing him a moment and Aragorn startled drew away. Alone in the surf Murazor screamed, wraith and man, spirit of the storm, but mainly mist. Then he was gone, dispersed, scattered as if it had all been a dream, and the quest and Wraiths themselves as if they had never been. The waves crept upon the shore and washed away his footprints.

_Oh fade away all hopes to pass,  
__The hour dawns too dim  
__The sea bereft of lover moans  
__And sheds her tears for him,  
__King of Numor, icy cold, beset upon by fate,  
__Much you lost and far you fell,  
__Did hope arrive too late?_

Author's note: only 2 chapters after this! Three at most! What becomes of the nine?


	32. Chapter Thirty One Welcome Home

Authors note: SORRY! So sorry I haven't updated in so long! Our internet was canceled! Yes, insane, no? well, back to the basics, I own nuttin!

* * *

Arwen watched the sky brightening over the mountains, the grasses turning golden in the Pelannor fields. Not far off her son slept peacefully. He had been more cheerful the last few days than he had been since his father's departure. She sighed, restless eyes wandering again. "Had I your hope, my little Eldarion. But you cannot know what they face…" An owl hooted and fluttered for the shadows. "He did not take the Evenstar with him…"

"…mother? Are you still awake mother?" Eldarion looked at her from sleep clouded eyes; he snuggled down further into the blankets.

"Yes, I'm still awake."

"You worry too much mother!"

"…do I? Why do you say that?"

"Because I told you it was all right! And you still don't believe me!"

Arwen smiled, she rose from the window seat and sat at the edge of the bed. "Yes, you told me it was all right. But it is a mother's nature to worry, and so I do. I'm sure your right Eldarion, they're probably fine. After all, Mithrandir is with them."

"When they get back, do you think he will teach me magic?"

Arwen laughed, but stopped quickly when Eldarion started to pout. "Oh, I'm sure he would if he could, but magic is not meant for men. Mithrandir does magic because he is a Miar. That is part of what they do."

"Do elves do magic?"

"…only a little, and nothing strong, if we can avoid it. An Elf knows what they should and should not touch."

"And didn't men do magic too? Long ago?"

"…Some did, yes."

"Why could they do it, and not me?"

"Why do you want to learn magic so badly?"

Eldarion paused, deep in thought he looked away. His wide eyes closed in concentration, then opened, still confused. "I…I want to learn magic, so I can be as strong as they are." Arwen looked puzzled.

"…As strong as the Miar?"

"…no… just as strong as them, so dad won't have to worry about me anymore, so he won't have to, to make deals he doesn't want to. He did, you know. Make a deal."

Arwen grew pale, "how do you know of this?"

"Well, who do you think I asked to protect dad? I can't talk to Mithrandir! He's too far away…" Eldarion shook his head, as if stating the obvious. "He was dreaming too, so I just tapped him, and he woke up." He sensed something was wrong, she was too still… "Mother? I won't do it again mother… I don't even think I can." Arwen did not reply. Her gaze turned to the rising dawn. There was sadness in her eyes, in the tilt of her head, her hand tightened about the pendant at her throat.

"Mother… he didn't hurt me. I felt… it was like touching a lion."

"A lion."

"Yes, you have to respect the lion, but don't fear him." The prince of Gondor smiled, "If I had been afraid of him, he might have hurt me, but I was not. Mother, were they not men? Men like father?"

"The Witch king of Angmar is not a lion my son, nor any other noble beast. The Witch king was a jackal, a warg, a shadow of Sauron. Nothing noble was in his presence, I know this Eldarion, because I faced him."

"…You?"

Arwen smirked, "…Does the shield maiden of Rohan strike you as the only woman to have ever hoisted a blade?"

"No! I'm sorry mother! I didn't mean it!" Eldarion looked like a fish on land, blinking and moving his mouth frantically. "I never said that! No! I bet you had to fight for father too, didn't you!"

"…well my son, only some nights… but that is neither here nor now. Promise me, promise me regardless of whether or not your father brings the Nine to Minas Tirith, you will not speak to them, especially that one. To be in a Nazgul's debt is a terrible thing."

"I promise mother… but I don't think they are coming back with him…"

"Why do you say that?"

"Because… in my dream, he was watching the sea."

Across the fields a lone horn rang.  
It came again, closer now.  
Arwen rose, Eldarion at her side, both rushed to the window. The field was golden in the first light, and the horn rang again unseen.

Minis Tirith, just awake, listened disbelieving to the horn. Its blast rang again, warming hearts, waking minds.  
The horn of the steward! The horn their steward had himself smelted back to one piece.  
The horn of steward! The Return of the Steward and the king!  
The trumpets of the Citadel sounded a reply, a roar rose from the seven circles as the swiftest of the Fellowship appeared over the field.

Aragorn, Faramir and Gandalf, their robes tossed in the wind, their horses nickering to be home. A whinny rose to greet them, Shadowfax leapt from the west and ran astride them, tossing his head and bellowing his call. The sun rose behind them, dancing off white wings as the muscles flexed and scales glimmered. Astride the White Dragon sat Bilbo, Frodo, Sam and Legolas, Merry and Pippin, and even Gimli upon his back. The dragon roared; the trumpets sounded again, and the horn echoed off the stone.

The gates opened for the riders, who were then swamped in the streets by the city's men, yelling and talking whisked away the horns ring in the crowd's joy. The white dragon circled, spiraling upwards until the hole to his lair was in sight, then he plummeted and vanished into the earth itself.

* * *

… Aragorn looked about him, the city, its people, his companions in arms. It seemed a shadow of his own was lifted. There was no wraith to fear in the night, Sauron forever slain, Morgoth locked in silence. There was no fear in his heart, and no pity… no more wishing for the flight, no more memories not his own, no more fighting what he knew had been great men, they were free now, their trials and suffering ended. And with theirs, his.

* * *

Faramir let the sound envelope him, still clutching the horn to his breast. Home, and safe, with Eowyn and his children waiting for him, his duty to his city served. He looked at Aragorn, smiled at the look upon his face. This could become another Golden era, they had the light, they had the time. And if his king ever suggested he needed to travel again, he would toss him from the highest of the white city's circles. That was a vow.

* * *

Gandalf slipped silently away from the masses. Large crowds made him claustrophobic at best. Ever faithful Shadowfax kept in step beside him. "It is done my friend; they were the last of it." The grey steed whickered, proud head arched to regard him. "The black throne is vacant, and none will ever claim that seat of power again. I am old my friend," The stallion snorted. "Yes, yes, you are old too. And we have lived to see the last of it." They stood now upon the wall. Looking toward the land of shadow. "Men will do as men have done, darkness can never be separated from light. New horrors will come, men may become their own dark lords, but they will never recreate what has occurred here.

…It may come to pass, that all we fought for is forgotten, that we will be less than stories told by the wind to farm boys, mere memories of the soil." The wizard's eyes sparkled. "…But the victory we have had, the light reborn from the bosom of death itself… that, I think, may just endure forever." Shadowfax was still for a moment, then he leaned back upon his hocks and reared, hooves racked the sky, and the great stallions roar heralded the birth of a new age.

* * *

…Means while , Gimli, Legolas, Merry, Pippin, Samwise, Frodo, and Bilbo were left with the task of finding their way from the dragon's lair. Legolas tried again, "We see no stairs, there are steep walls everywhere, the hobbits and the dwarfs cannot jump very high, and I cannot see! Anantaboga! We will be trapped down here till all of Arda freezes over!" The dragon continued to snore, though one eye stayed on the potentially thieving dwarf.

"It's no use elf. Just start yelling and hope someone hears you."

"And will you assist me with this Gimli?"

"Nay, not at first. This is extremely fine craftsmanship…"

"Get your eyes from there and lend me your lungs!"

Author's note: 2 chapters to go!


	33. Chapter 32 The Fellowship Resolved

Authors note: I own nothing. :( Also, children of Eden inspiration, yes.

* * *

Bittersweet, beautiful and haunting, the sunlight shone upon the fellowshiparound the white tree. Aragorn leaned back against its sturdy trunk, Arwen under his arm. The two were pressed, the kings chin on her brow, his hand above her womb. It was pleasant news that had greeted him upon his return, another child. Another child to his name and line. Legolas reclined in the grass, one foot touching the water, sending ripples. Gimli stood not far off, looking towards the mountains. Faramir spoke to him, Eowyn leaning against him and their children playing under the shade of the great branches. 

Merry slept, his face serene, tufts of grass and a single shining leaf under his chin. Pippin and Samwise were deep into a debate of how the pipe weed would grow this year, Pippin fearing the weather had been too wet, and Sam replying passionately that wet was just what the weed needed. "It's been too dry, in my opinion. This wet will help move things along."

Gandalf, his staff at his feet, his back against the Horse Lords side, watched Eldarion prance about, a smile playing across his face, even as his eyes were distant. Bilbo was still trapped in the tree with Frodo. Yes, trapped. How they had gotten up there was unknown, but there they were all the same, speaking to each other in half worried voices as they attempted to maneuver themselves down. "IfI… if I put my foot here…"

"That branch won't hold you."

"Well…perhaps I could..?"

"I think it's too far out of reach."

"Yes, yes that's true. Then I must…"

"No! Too far! Try the left!"

But it was too late; Bilbo was out of the tree. He looked up at Frodo with an embarrassed manner; the elf crushed beneath him was stunned into silence. Frodo sighed, alone, and tried to climb down.

There came a screech from the north, Gwaihir, Lord of the eagles, soared up and around the summit, coming to land on the highest branch of the tree. "I bring news, fellowship of the races. The wind has turned, it is blowing to the west and the sea is fair."

Gandalf stood.

"Lord of eagles, you come with fine tidings." The bird lowered its head slightly. "I thank you, and the hobbits thank you as well, the one underneath you, and the one upon the elf." The eagle lord clicked his beak amused; one golden eye looked below him to where Frodo sat in the branches.

"In need of assistance again, Ring bearer?" Frodo blushed and mumbled something about, (no thank you) and, (very kind,) and also, (I'll figure this out.) the eagle clicked his beak again, and watched as the hobbit continued his descent. The bird turned his head to the others in turn, until both piercing eyes fell upon Aragorn.

"…King of men, you nearly followed your fore bearers into shadow. I worried for you, and asked the wind to send you council, though men cannot hear the wind." Aragorn did not reply. His eyes were quiet, and calm. "…But I have worried in vain. The taint is free of you, and Mordor's reek has faded from your scent. It seems this journey has set you loose, as well."

"Wind lord, you honor me." The eagle gave a screech, his wings sending leaves to rain upon all below. He leapt from the branch and swooped about them, circling them all until his feathers pivoted, sending him soaring back to the north. Once he had gone, and the sky was silent of his cries, Gandalf turned to the others.

"As you well know, our end is very near. I know not what is yet to come, save that we will not be here. So I would ask you, if all we have, is this last little while. Here, now, each and every one of us, sit awhile.  
…Remember these last days, for they are to be our last ones.  
Think back on where we have been, discuss, recollect, return.  
If there's fire in a soul, than its flame will never falter… and if there's hope within a heart, within that hope the flame will burn.

For you I wish the best, and may your flames burn ever true,  
To those of us, whose flames are spent, in heart we are with you.  
The wind is fair, and the sea, is clear…  
What lies beyond does call us,  
though a part of us cannot leave here...

The Mirror shows what it will show!  
Our hidden hearts, that we would remember…  
How came compassion to shadow,  
Whenthey lit the ember…

You must remember...

Our hands can choose to bend the bars,  
Our spirits are ours for the claiming.  
We cannot know what fate will bring…  
Journeys of Men, Dwarf, Elf, or Halfling…  
The Nazgul screaming in the night,  
Or Morgoth bellowing his might…  
In the beginning…

This is but another, beginning…

…In whatever time, we have… for as long as you are living…  
May you face whatever comes, though our fellowship is done.  
You can make it on your own, but I pray you will not have to,  
We are not meant to be alone… in whatever time we have."

* * *

The days passed all too swiftly, The dragon shone as he walked beside the sea, letting the surf kiss his scales. He would not be coming back, the last dragon would pass from middle earth, into the west. Bilbo stood beside Gandalf, who embraced Legolas and Aragon in turn, Faramir came forward to take his hand. Gimli stood a distance off; Dwarfs don't believe in goodbyes, they have a habit of turning into hellos. Sam and Frodo clung together, smothered by Merry & Pippin. The waves broke, the gulls called. Legolas looked across the water, his eyes misty. He would not go with them now… but soon, it would be soon… 

"Cormamin niuve tenna' ta elea lle au'."  
My heart will weep, untill it sees thee again.

Eowyn and Arwen stood apart, watching in silence. Eowyn's eyes were wet, she cried often at partings, when she believed none to be watching her. It was done, at last it was all done.

They passed from sight above the waves, the dragon red in the light, the wizard looking ahead, the hobbits, looking back.

* * *

In the city of Gondor the moon shone like a silver glass, a cry was heard, someone in pain… it faded on the winds. Than a softer sound, a whispering wail, a baby's first breath. Inside the stone walls the midwife placed the babe into his mothers hands. The woman, tired and pale, looked upon her infant softly. "He was hesitant to leave." The midwife laughed. 

"Yes, they loath to come into the cold for the first time." She turned to the girl beside her, who went into the outer hall. Outside the door an anxious father ceased his pacing. "A son captain, you have a fine son."

The woman named Adondra held the babe to her breast, smiling as the small mouth yawned. "Madam, his name? Have you chosen one?" She looked up, the midwife was watching the moon. "It's very bright tonight, and a tad chill…" she turned to face her. "For those of us that hold with old superstitions, this is a mid omen. Not too hot, and not quite too cold." Adondra shook her head, rocking her child.

"Seon and I hadn't decided… I had thought if it was a girl… yet… Gaellyn." The midwife looked surprised.

"Gaellyn?"

"Gaellyn."

"Gaellyn… a strange name for a child… you know it's meaning don't you? My lady… it is a somewhat dark name…"

"Gaellyn. My grandfather was named Gaellyn. If Seon gives his approval, that is what we shall call his son."

It was later in the night that the midwife Drimeth, sitting in an inn, was told by another exhausted midwife of a birth, occurring within minutes of hers. "I've heard from Acalith and Cresa, and they've been busy as well, passed them on their way here, they told me of some others. Now you too! That's nine births tonight under a frost moon! If there's not another one in a moment or so… an omen perhaps?"

An omen… Gaellyn…


	34. Chapter Thirty Three Free

Author's note: As always I own nothing! …but it would be nice to…

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** Epilogue**

_We cannot know what will occur…  
__Just make our journey worth the taking…  
__And pray we're wiser than we were…  
__In the beginning.  
_Children of Eden

Gaellyn looked outside his window, the light shone upon the White City; it struck the towers of the citadel, sending up a clear beacon. The dreams had woken him again, left him grasping for what he could never reach. For frost, and fire… silently he slipped into his clothing and snuck downstairs.

His mother was still asleep, his father, a Captain of the royal guard, was still on duty. He looked about for a moment, shaking the feeling of strangeness the night had left behind. All was as it should be… and yet… from the stable out back his colt whistled, and he ran out the door. The beast was prancing in his stall, missing his older companion. Gaellyn rubbed his nose, and put fresh straw in his feed box. The stars were quickly disappearing from the sky, he turned, paused. His head arched, his gaze skyward, a breeze rustled his hair. The streets were calling, the mist cooling his legs before the sun ruled for the rest of the day. His colt snorted, sensing something perhaps that the boy did not.

Gaellyn patted the beast once more, this was his future, this horse. The king of Gondor wished to create a group of rangers to roam the borders. That would be him, he was sure. Riding in all weather, free of all chains save one, and even that removable if need be, for they were coming with him. Swiftly he trekked to the city's sleeping marketplace, footsteps muffled in the morning's dampness. They were waiting, his companions, stretched out upon the steps of a merchant's home. Secyn waved to him, and then tossed a pebble at Tunvan. Rhar and Owaen whispered to each other under their breath. Syrym looked at him shyly, and behind him Aethegwir and Lebryn noted his appearance with interest. The first to speak was Gwerraent. "You had it again too, didn't you? I saw something this time! It looked kinda like a stick." Secyn snorted,

"A stick? I saw a weird snake! Really! And it was like… like a pet? You see? A pet that liked me, I think…" Tunvan laughed, soon everyone was laughing, except Secyn. "I did! And it was! Oh, what would any of you know about it, huh? Huh?" Gaellyn raised his hands for silence.

"I didn't see anything, I never do. You always see something at least, but I am yet to see even a stick, or a stone. I heard something though… it was almost… a scream." The group fell still. The sun was up now; the merchants were setting up their stalls. No one paid much attention to the children on the steps. Tunvan made a short motion, a (we better get going or our mothers will scold,) the others nodded. They dispersed slowly, returning to their homes before their parents realized they were missing. Sacyn brushed by Gaellyn as he passed, turned and looked at him a moment.

"…you were there too, in my dream. I couldn't see you, but I think you were there." He turned and ran off. Tunvan cocked his head, amused, Gaellyn shrugged. The others were gone now, save them.

"…You aren't missing much, not having them. They leave me feeling… odd, you know? Somewhat lost…" Gaellyn nodded,

"I feel lost as well, every morning. I know the feel. Why do you think..? …? …what are you humming?" Tunvan stopped. His eyes clouded for a moment,

"I think… I think it's a lullaby. Don't you know it? Light filt_ers throu_gh the trees… and _the breeze blows_ through the gle_n… _the _streams all flash wit_h silver… from the lit_tle_ _fish, within_… you know it, don't you?"

Gaellyn said nothing; he turned his head to the wind again, smelling the air. "…we should go home." Tunvan nodded, his head turned to the wind as well.

"I knew it." He ran off and was gone.

So Gaellyn was the last to go, and not before he had managed to procure an apple from a fruit stand. Munching thoughtfully he turned and headed for home. The tune was haunting… he had heard it before… as if, in a dream. His mother was awake now, she raised her eyebrow at him, told him his appetite for breakfast was probably ruined, and went upstairs to fetch her basket for market. The child shook his head and smiled.

Alone in the kitchen Gaellyn walked to the window. The sunlight warmed his skin, set off the blue in his almost grey eyes. Suddenly he sprang away with a cry, he shuddered against the floor for a few moments, then, slowly, walked back to the window and looked out again...

It was gone. The shadow. It had been there, he was sure of it… a huge figure, wearing a thorny helm and holding a blade. But it was gone now, his own shadow greeted him. Lost, he drew away. It had been a trick of the light, like any other. But for a moment… just a moment… it had all seemed so clear. Free again of doubt he ran back to the stable, his colt was ready to run.

_So the wheel goes round, and the ages pass, and the cycle of live bears fruit and withers in the same breath. One life is ended, another begun, and while we may suspect the truth, who can say who we were? When the wheel spun a different way, and life itself stopped, and men became both more and less than men. _

_But that, was a different story.

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_

_Author's note: _Here's a big thank you to all those who read this story! (and all those who reviewed!) Possumgurl, SeXem, Lauren K, Gandalf-Dumbledor-Obi Wan, and recently Zanathir and Aphel! Last but by no means least. Thank you Frodofreak88.

Thank you!

P.S. Considering writing something about the future, these 'children'. Should I do it? Let me know. If not, well, you can't end them much better than this. Thank you.


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